Shut Your Mouth
by Emma CS Me
Summary: AU from 2x05. After the underwear incident, Karofsky and Azimio will not back off already when it comes to Finn. Things quickly go from bad to worse. Trigger warning: sexual harassment/abuse.
1. Leave Me Alone

**Author's Notes:** Written for this prompt on the glee_angst_meme: "After the underwear incident, things get a whole lot worse for Finn. The football jocks won't stop taunting him, but it's worse than before: there comments get really sexual. Then they begin awkwardly touching him when they're alone. He wants to tell someone, but it isn't rape or anything so he figures he should just suck it up. And then Korafsky and Azimo corner him in the locker room and force him to give them head. They tell him he was asking for it, and he starts to believe it."

Warning - this could be seriously triggery.

* * *

**1: Leave Me Alone**

"Yo, Hudson!"

Finn groans and reluctantly turns around to face Karofsky and Azimio, who are lurking behind him and grinning. Those two are fucking stalkers, honestly.

"What do you want, guys?" It's more than a little rude, but whatever. Those guys are always douches to him, and he'll be a douche right back, thank you very much.

Karofsky and Azimio share a look before shrugging at each other. "Just wanted to make sure you'd actually keep your clothes on today, that's all," says Azimio.

Against his will, Finn turns bright red. "Shut up."

"Just saying," says Azimio.

"There are things man was not meant to see."

"Shut. Up." These two will just not _leave him freaking alone_ about the underwear incident already. Yeah, he gets it was dumb. He gets he was kind of asking to be made fun off. He doesn't even really feel much better about his body. Still, why do these assholes have to make a big deal of it?

Said assholes just laugh. "You know, you may not have noticed now you and Hummel have moved into your honeymoon suite or whatever, but us _normal_ guys? We don't take too kindly to some queer strutting down the hallway like he's trying to make us look. No-one wants to be a _fag_ like you, Hudson," Azimio says.

"You should be careful," Karofsky says with a mock-friendly punch on the arm. "You go about like that some closet case is gonna jump ya sooner or later. Whether it was the point or not."

"Fuck off," says Finn. "I'm not freaking gay, okay, and so what if I was? I was just... doing something stupid. And Kurt and I aren't even living in the same house yet! Not since the mess that happened last time."

Karofsky and Azimio look at each other like they clearly have no idea what Finn's on about, but they don't seem to care.

"Whatever. But keep your damn shirt on, and watch your back Hudson," Azimio says.

"Yeah," says Karofsky as they start to back off. "Or, y'know, someone might just _teach you_ what you're asking for when you want us all to be like you."

The guys high-five as they walk away, and Finn groans and slumps again his locker. _Assholes_, he thinks. However, what they said sort of makes him uncomfortable.

_Someone might teach you what you're asking for..._

Was that a threat?

Threatening _what_?

Finn shakes the thought away just in time from Kurt to sneak up from behind him. "Hello Finn."

"Ah!"

Finn struggles to regain your composure, and Kurt looks... amused. "Graceful," he says. "Anyway, Dad just wanted me to pass the message on that you and your mother are invited for dinner. Dress nice. I'm making my famous organic pasta with avocado sauce – low-fat, of course."

"Great, more of your vegan girly crap," Finn grumbles before he can really think about it. Kurt looks... hurt. _Shit._

"Oh, man, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean... it's just, those guys were being assholes again, and I just did that thing where I take it out on you because they seem to think my gayness increases proportionally with how much you're in my life. And that whole taking it out on you thing has gone _real bad_ in the past, so I'm gonna stop now. Really sorry, man."

There's a pause. "It's quite alright," says Kurt. "I did see, after all. Those guys are awful. Were they harassing you about anything specific this time?"

Finn shrugs. "Uh, just that underwear thing. I'm trying really hard to forget about it, and they really, really don't want me to."

"Bastards. Just because it was the stupidest idea ever had by anyone, doesn't mean they can torment you with it for the rest of your life," says Kurt. "I mean, I'm going to torment you with it for the rest of your life too. But that's different – I'm your little brother figure; it's kind of my job."

"Thanks, dude," says Finn. "Wait, aren't you actually two months older than me?"

"Whatever."

Finn shrugs. "Alright then. I'd rather everyone pretend it never happened, but..."

"Well, I'm not going to complain too loudly, if that helps," says Kurt. "Admittedly my reasons are fairly selfish. Yeah, I know we're almost step-brothers and everything, but really? Finn Hudson in nothing but his underwear? I'm meant to have a _problem_ with that?"

Finn just rolls his eyes.

* * *

The guys pour into the change room after practice, and no-one's really paying attention to each other. As far as Finn thinks, anyway, before he starts taking his shirt off – and yeah, he's kind of hiding behind one of the cubicle walls, so what?

"Look at Hudson," calls Azimio, making Finn's stomach churn in dread. "Stripping for us all yet again. What a surprise."

Finn's confused. "Dude. It's the change rooms. What am I meant to do?"

Azimio shrugs it off. "I'd just think – y'know, if you insist of showing off your faggot ass, I thought you wouldn't be shy about it. Seems kinda counterproductive, that's all."

Finn just looks down at the floor, mostly because he can't fight the accusation before figuring out what 'counterproductive' means. Dammit. Why couldn't Kurt have been right about those douches being borderline-illiterate.

"Fuck off, Azimio," says Puck, walking next to Finn slowly. "Just 'cause my bro here has the guts to show it off to _everyone_, and you're too repressed to admit you want his dumb ass, don't be a dick about it."

Azimio narrows his eyes at the two. "What is this?" he asks. "I'd expect you to be a bit more jealous when your boyfriend's getting naked, that's all."

"Don't worry," Puck says sarcastically, before he pulls Finn in close and wraps an arm around his waist. "I mean, obviously, we just do this exhibitionist thing sometimes. Right, schnookins?"

To highlight the ridiculousness off it, Puck leaned in and kisses Finn on the cheek. Everyone laughs, and Finn just rolls his eyes. Still, it's nice to have his once-and-sort-of best friend standing close to stick up for him when this guy is being an asshole. It's comforting – Puck has also been kind of an asshole about this sort of stuff in the past, and besides, Karofsky and Azimio and all their shit is really starting to bug him.

He's a total freaking girl for thinking that, huh?

Azimio just glares. "Fine," he says. "But could you two keep your faggotry away from the rest of us? Thanks."

"Wait, you know we're not actually..." Puck cuts Finn off with a nudge, before pulling away.

"Leave it alone, Hudson," he says. "It's probably that Karofsky's not putting out or something. Right?"

There is laughter and cat-calling, and Azimio just looks annoyed.

However, the door swings open.

"What in the hell is going on out here?" barked Coach Bieste from the door. "'Cause I know I'm pretty much not allowed in here for this bit, but if you boys don't get a move on I'm setting up and electric shock system. _Hurry up_."

She slams the door closed after her and everyone cracks up laughing. Finn doesn't really know what's so funny.

"Wow," says Azimio. "And my mom says _I_ have testosterone issues – whaddaya think, boys? Overdose on her hormone pills or what?"

The crowd titters in laughter – Finn still doesn't think it's very funny. Some of them have the sense to look a bit ashamed of themselves. He kind of wants to stick up for her; confront Azimio about his bullshit and tell him to back off. 'Cause Bieste is kind of awesome, even if she kind of kicks him off the team for no real reason every once in awhile.

But he doesn't, mostly because... well, Azimio seems to have forgotten about him for now. And Finn isn't particularly eager to make the guy remember. Which is selfish and douchey, but whatever – these guys just will not leave him alone already.

* * *

When Finn gets to leave practice, he sure as hell isn't expecting to see Azimio leaning against his car door. How'd Azimio get back from practice so quickly anyway?

"...The fuck?" Finn asks, hesitating with the keys (well, button-thingy, but people still call them keys for some reason) in his hand. Azimio just smirks at him.

"Hey, Hudson," he says. " Don't get ideas – I'm not Mr. November in whatever homo calendar you keep in your basement. Just thought you might wanna talk."

Finn shakes his head, and presses the button to unlock the car door. "I really kind of don't." He tries to charge past Azimio, but the guy holds him off by the shoulders. "Come on, man," Finn whines. "I just wanna go home."

"Whatever," says Azimio, sneaking a hand behind him to pull the car door handle. He manages to knock Finn forward long enough to open it properly, and slide inside. He leans back against the gearstick, and he looks so damn _comfortable_. It makes Finn feel really freaked out – that's _his_ car, and this guy doesn't have a right to just get inside without asking Finn in any way.

...Even if it _was_ kind of stupid of him to unlock the door while Azimio was still leaning against it. Fuck.

"Okay, get out of my car," says Finn. "Please, man? What do you _want_, anyway?"

"You piss me off, Hudson; I thought you might wanna hear a bit more 'bout that," says Azimio.

"I just want my car back."

Azimio rolls his eyes. "You wanna know what my problem with you is? It's not that you're just a homo – not that that's not freaksome in itself, but – it's just, you're such a freaking _slut_ about it."

"_What_?"

"Seriously. At least Hummel just wears like, dresses and skirts and shit, and sometimes makes doe eyes when he thinks we won't all kill him. Kid knows how to cower in fear," Azimio says, smirking. _Bullshit_, thinks Finn. But the guy starts talking again before Finn has time to point out just how awesome Kurt is about dealing with their shit "But you... fuck, you think we don't see you? Getting naked in every fucking sport team? Hiding like we meant to seek? Stripping down in front of the whole school?"

Despite himself, Finn blushes. It's not _like_ that. Azimio's making shit up because he's a dick.

"Back off already, okay?" says Finn. "Unless Puck was right about you secretly wanting me or whatever..."

_Score!_

Azimio ignores him, but yanks him down by the wrist.

"Ah!"

"Look at you," he says. He doesn't sound mocking anymore – his voice has gotten dark and threatening, and now Finn's _really_ freaking out. "You're just a little faggy _whore_, aren't you? Bet you'd take any cock you were offered. Maybe somewhat oughta test that theory, huh?"

Finn tries to force his hand free. "Come on, this isn't funny," he pleads. "I just wanna go home."

There's a long, awkward pause.

"Fine," says Azimio.

He lets go, pushes Finn back and stands up. He starts to walk off. "It's all yours, Hudson. Try not to jizz too hard on the seat just 'cause I sat there."

Finn ignores the insult, throwing himself in the car and slamming the door shut. He locks it and grips the steering wheel hard. _Breathe_, he tells himself. _Breathe_.

That was just Azimio being an asshole. No need to panic. He wouldn't _do_ anything. Right?

Right?


	2. Open Your Present

**2: Open Your Present**

He's walking down the hallway, holding hands with Rachel. She's smiling, and leaning against his shoulder.

"Do you think we can ask to do another duet for this week's assignment?" she asks. "Because I know the rest of the group have been complaining, but I really do think we..."

"Well, Schue'll probably do it even if everyone else hates us for it," Finn says. "You know, someone really ought to talk to him about that."

Rachel shrugs it off. This conversation is soon interrupted as two menacing jocks start walking down the hall, side by side. _Not again_, Finn thinks.

"Finn." Rachel tightens her hand in his as Karofsky and Azimio get close.

"Hey homo," says Karofsky. "What's this? Taking your beard to get a trim?"

Finn groans. "Okay, seriously, _what is your problem_? Can't you leave me alone?" he asks. "And what does that even mean? I mean, I know what 'the beard' is, but how would you trim..."

"Shut _up_, Hudson," says Azimio. "Still, it's a pity. She's not bad, for a loser with animal sweaters or whatever. If only she'd shut up for like three seconds. Who knows, think someone could find a better use for that mouth?"

He's just about to step up and go all caveman about her, before Rachel does it herself and slaps Azimio in the face. "Don't you fucking _dare_," she says (Rachel can swear?). "My boyfriend is ten times the man either of you will ever be – put together. And, to be shallow for a second, he's a _lot_ more attractive as well. Now, _back off_, and if either of you makes that sort of intrusive comment to me again, I _will_ report you for sexual harassment."

_Reasons Rachel Berry is Awesome, No. #2649225_, thinks Finn.

Karofsky and Azimio look taken aback as they stare at each other. "Jeez, way to take it personally, Berry," says Azimio. "She is just a crazy bitch, huh Hudson?"

"Leave her alone," says Finn. "You're meant to be constantly being _my_ pain in the ass."

"You wish," says Azimio.

That is _not_ what he meant.

"Eh, who knows," says Karofsky. "Maybe she's just freaking at the idea of some _real_ men getting their hands on her. What's the deal, Rach? You play beard, he does the guy version of it for you? You did always seem to like it too much when Fabray ripped you a new one."

Rachel scowls at them. "Why is it that whenever you dislike _anyone_, for any reason, your first route of attack is their sexuality? Not only is it offensive, it's really unoriginal. It makes you look like idiots – which you _are,_ but you'd think you'd at least _try_ to pretend you're not."

"Fuck you," says Azimio. "Whatever, this is boring. You can have your dumbass two-person GSA, we're out of here. Don't spread the homo germs or anything."

They laugh and walk off, while Finn sighs. He wraps an arm around Rachel.

"Sorry," he says. "Those guys are assholes."

"I don't see how it's your fault."

He shrugs. "They've kind of been after me for a while. Since the underwear incident, they've been even worse than usual. You just got kind of..."

"...Caught in the crossfire?" she says. "It's okay. That's not your responsibility. Besides, being the daughter of two gay dads, I feel a responsibility to fight any sort of homophobic attack I encounter, so it's probably a good thing if they focus their abuse on me."

"Rach, please don't say that," he says, mock-pouting. "I mean, yeah you can be all civil rights-y. But then they are douches to you, and that makes you sad, and that makes me cry."

She smiles. "I promise to buy you magical tear-stopping things."

"Wait, those exist?"

She frowns. "No; I was making a joke. Or at least, I don't _think_ they exist... wouldn't onion sellers be using them otherwise?"

* * *

"Wait, wait," says Finn, walking down the hall again. "No way. I know we made it back onto the team and everything, but I'd really rather not take that risk again. No offense, dude."

"Come on, Finn," says Artie as he wheels by Finn's side. "I know it sounds absurd, but I'm not only doing this for selfish reasons – admittedly, my bravery and slightly compromising position would most likely impress Tina, but I think it would actually help the game, so if you'd just talk to Coach Bieste – the answer is no, dude."

"Come on, Finn." Finn just shakes his head – almost feeling sorry for the guy – and sets to work opening his locker. He quickly forgets about the conversation as he enters his combination, twists the lock, pulls back the door, and what falls out _falls out_.

Dildos.

_Lots _of them.

The entire crowd of people in the hallway crack up laughing, but Finn just _stares_. And, well, blushes. _What the fuck?_ he thinks.

Artie is pretty obviously trying _really hard_ to keep a straight face. He's failing. "So, uh, Finn," he says. "You have anything you need to tell us?"

Finn blushes even deeper. "Fuck you," he says, but despite himself he's fighting a grin too. "Puck? Where are you, you asshole? What are you doing now?"

This is _so_ like him.

Unfortunately, Finn doesn't have the good luck to find out this is just his sort-of best friend doing one of the stupid things Puck _does_. There is a sudden burst of really _evil_ laughter coming from two people – Karofsky and Azimio step forward, like they're accepting an award or something.

"Sorry Hudson, but your boyfriend's not here right now. Is _he_ the one you're used to having cram this sort of thing in you?" Azimio asks.

"Please. Like there's anyone he's _not_ used to it from," Karofsky scoffs. Finn blushes even deeper.

"Okay, seriously, _what is your problem_? Why can't you just _back off_? And how the hell did you get into my locker anyway?" asks Finn, all possibility of taking this with humor gone – this isn't someone he knows, likes and trusts pulling a weird prank on him. This is two guys who have been creeping him out for ages now doing something _even more_ creepy.

However, no-one else seems to have noticed that – they're still laughing at the situation, though if it's a bit awkward. Even Artie seems a bit amused – _Dude, some help here?_ Thinks Finn. Karofsky and Azimio, of course, seem to find the whole thing _hilarious_.

"Seriously? You think those five-dollar combination locks are secure?" asks Karofsky. "Seriously. I could get one of those with the same amount of money it'd take to get you to blow me."

The crows titters. Which is, y'know, not encouraging.

"And yeah, we get this was kind of douchey," says Azimio. "I mean, we shouldn't tease you when this isn't like a _fifth_ of your personal collection."

It's probably dumb, but Finn steps forward, getting up in their personal space. "Okay, _what the hell_? You guys have always been assholes, but now you're _freaking me out_. I don't know if you didn't like me walking naked through the halls, but whatever, it's none of your business, and we're _on the freaking football team together –_ get over it!"

The guys just laugh. "You've really gotta learn how to _not_ protest way too much," says Azimio.

One of the dildos lying on the floor starts rolling, and manages to crash into Karofsky's foot. He smirks down at it, and picks it up. _Fuck_, thinks Finn.

"Here," says Karofsky, stepping forward and aiming the _thing_ at Finn's mouth like a spear or something. "Open up, baby boy."

He's _way_ too into Finn's personal space now, and Finn smacks his hand away. "Fuck off!" he yells. "This isn't funny."

Karofsky rolls his eyes. "Come on, Hudson. What's the point of being a fag if you're gonna play hard to get?"

He starts aiming the fake-penis for Finn's mouth again, and Finn punches him in the face. Unfortunately, that's the signal for a _fight_ – Azimio gets behind him while Karofsky recovers, and soon Finn has to fight them both off. Yeah, he's _tall_, but two against one is still fucking unfair. Azimio manages to very solidly slam him into the lockers, and from that point on Finn's _definitely_ on the back foot.

After a _bit_ too long fighting, Artie wheels between Finn and the two. "Okay, _stop_," he says – he doesn't look like he thinks it's funny anymore.

"Get the fuck out of the way, cripple, you have nothing to do with this," says Azimio. "And my moral code only goes so far."

"Okay, yeah, and if you hit me I _will_ get Rachel to do that legal crap she's always threatening. And if you have to hit Finn, I'm kinda gonna get caught in the crossfire. Back. Off."

Finn breathes a sigh of relief – yeah, he'll probably get mocked for having the guy in a wheelchair stick up for him, but he'll get mocked for having all the... _stuff_ in his locker. At least this way, he'll be mocked and _alive_.

Karofsky and Azimio share a look, before smirking.

"So, what's in this for you, Wheels?" asks Azimio.

"Yeah. He give you a discount for playing knight in shining armor or something?"

"Or maybe you just want his ass unbruised or whatever, I don't know."

Artie just rolls his eyes at their accusations. "And again, your first reaction to anyone picking Finn Hudson's side over yours is that there must be some kind of dirty homoerotic desire involved. Really, I'm starting to wonder – what sort of repressed lust is telling you it's completely impossible for a guy _not_ to want him?"

Finn only really understood half of what Artie just said, but whatever it is, it seems to get under Karofsky and Azimio's skin. That's a good sign. There's a long, awkward moment where everyone just _stares_ at each other.

"Fucking hell," mutters Karofsky.

"Fuck you, cripple," says Azimio. "Think we don't see right through you? You're the exact kind of fag-lover who gets–"

"FOOTBALL PLAYERS!" A voice belows from down the hall, and all turn to see Sue Sylvester standing. They quiver in fear. "No, not you Wheels. You don't count. Boys – I heard your fight. I wouldn't care, but my girls were trying to figure out how to best psychically sabotage Gregith High School's cheerleading squad's vocals division – you interrupted. ALL THREE OF YOU, FIGGINS' OFFICE, NOW."

Karofsky, Finn and Azimio all share looks, before reluctantly starting to walk off – Finn tries his best to keep far behind them. Artie catches him by the wrist, and holds him back.

"Sorry," he says. "I should have stepped in sooner. I mean, I admit I found it a little funny to start – a straight guy getting ambushed with plastic penises pretty much always is, on some level, just for the sheer _awkward_ – but you were clearly freaking out and I shouldn't have let it go on like that."

"HUDSON!"

Finn jumps at Sylvester's voice. He shrugs at Artie. "It's cool," he says. "I gotta go. What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

"You're _suspending_ me?"

Principal Figgins just blinks, and Finn wildly flails around.

"But... what, why? It wasn't even a _big fight_! I just–"

"Mr. Hudson, you were already on probation from your _inappropriate incident _due to that musical," says Figgins. "You knew doing another thing like this would earn a suspension."

"Please, Principal Figgins," Finn pleads, "I mean, they filled my locker full of _sex toys_. Who does that? How is that okay?"

Figgins visibly represses the urge to roll his eyes – again, not encouraging. "Mr. Hudson, from what I've heard of the situation, it was a juvenile and crude prank. You're on sports teams together! Surely this sort of thing must have _happened_. Mr. Karofsky and Mr. Azimio have been given detention, but you overreacted! That is not their problem."

Finn leans back and pouts. "This isn't fair," he says.

"It's perfectly fair, you just refuse to acknowledge it," says Figgins. "Now, your mother will be arriving to pick you up in about ten minutes. I'll be watching you."


	3. Check Your Mail

**3: Check Your Mail**

"Congratulations, Finn."

Finn groans as Kurt swings closed the door. "Go away, Kurt," he says. "You don't even _know_ what's going on."

"I heard, Finn," says Kurt. "Everyone did. It's the joke of the century, really."

Finn scrunches up his face. "It's not funny."

"No, but if it was someone who I didn't despise with all fibre of my being who did this, it probably would be to at least some extent," says Kurt. Finn glares at him.

"Dude, not helping."

Kurt sighs and sits down next to him. "Look, what they did made you uncomfortable. That was obvious, and they had no right to do it in the first place. On the other hand, you _may_ have slightly overreacted – it was a cruel and unnecessary prank, but not all that much worse than everything they've done before. You can't react like this all the time, you know."

Finn doesn't want to think about it like that – he's not really sure why all this is making him freak like this. "This isn't fair," he says.

"How so?"

"Uh, _they_ start things – they're like, stalking me – and _I_ wind up suspended? How's _that_ fair?"

Kurt considers this. "Point taken. They really do seem to be getting out of hand."

Finn flinches. "It's not _that_ bad," he says, even though deep down he kind of thinks it totally is. "I just wish they'd…"

"Leave you alone," Kurt finishes for him. "Well, at least you have a silver lining – this getting yourself suspended thing means you won't have to be around them for… how long are you off school again?"

"Four days," says Finn. "Yeah, I guess that helps."

"I'll tell your girlfriend that when she starts ranting about how the group needs you or whatever. She should buy into it, given how she kept going on in Literature this morning about how those two were behaving completely inappropriately and she had half a mind to file for a restraining order."

Finn nods along. "You don't think they're going to take all this out on you guys 'cause I'm MIA, do you?"

"They're _already_ doing that, Finn," says Kurt. "It's not a big deal. Hate to bring it up, but you're not the only one they like to hurt and humiliate on a regular basis – you're not even a major one of their targets. We'll be fine, don't worry."

Finn frowns. "I just… I don't know what their problem is. What did I _do_ anyway?"

"Well, walk down the hallway in your underwear, and be in a singing club, but I don't see how either of those really affect them on a deeper level," says Kurt. "Unless they have some kind of shared childhood trauma that your naked torso caused to suddenly flash back."

"I was kind of a dick to Karofsky when I was like, ten," Finn muses. "Azimio did live here yet, but… I don't know, that might have something to do with it?"

Kurt shakes his head. "Finn, I was kidding. Don't think about it – whatever it is, this sort of behaviour is not justified. If you try to explain it, you'll just drive yourself crazy."

"…Okay," says Finn. "But they gave me all this work, so it's not even like I get suspended and I get free time for it, it's just…"

"Well, if it's any consolation, the events of this morning led to Jewfro coming up to me to quiz me on whether this was all evidence of some kind of secret kinky gay _menage a trois_. Which gave me an excuse to punch him in the face, which was surprisingly satisfying."

Finn pouts. "You didn't get suspended for it."

"It was Jacob Benjamin Israel, Finn."

* * *

He gets a whole bunch of messages, voice and text – Tina just asks if he's okay; Puck fumes that those assholes could pull something like that before he got a chance to; Rachel alternatively rants a him for being dumb enough to get himself suspended as they're approaching sectionals, and frets about if he's okay and if he wants her to take legal action.

He gets a message from an unknown number. He doesn't think twice before checking it.

_Heres a teaser hudson_

Finn frowns. Then he notices that the text has a photo attached, and he goes to check what it is.

He's stupid, as he soon realizes when he opens the photo. It's Azimio. Grinning evilly, shirtless, fly undone, holding out his...

Finn snaps the phone shut and starts hyperventilating. _Calm down,_ he tells himself. _Calm down, dude._

He can't make a big thing of it. He _can't_. They're just trying to get to him, like with the dildos in the locker which got him into this situation in the first place – they don't _mean_ anything; Karofsky and Azimio are just being assholes. Like _that's_ new.

He doesn't want to make a big deal. He doesn't want to make people worry about him – like Kurt said, he's not even one of their biggest targets. It'd be a bit pathetic if he went crying like a girl about every little thing they do. He just needs to get them to back off somehow, and everything'll be cool. This isn't a big deal. It's _not._

...It's just a goddamned _photo._

How did Azimio even get his number? He hates the dude; why would he...

...Wait. He thinks he remembers giving out his number to the team for some party thing, like, a year ago. Fuck, that's not fair. He wasn't even expecting to _keep_ the phone a year.

_Dumbass_, he tells himself.

He inhales, and tries to keep calm before daring to open the phone again. The photo is still there, trying to stab out his eyeballs – that bastard just _standing_, cock out, looking like he wants to eat Finn alive. Through a screen, which isn't possible, is it? And, _ew_ – he can interpret that a few ways. He winces.

His fingers are shaking, but he manages to get to the options menu and choose delete (it takes some effort, 'cause he's really bad at actually using his phone). In about three seconds, the photo and the text are gone. You can't see anything happened.

It's only then Finn realizes his pulse is racing.

_What the fuck?_ he asks himself. _It's a photo. Overreacting got you like this in the first place, remember?_

He knows it's not cool. They can't just _send_ him that shit and have everything be okay. Still, he doesn't want to freak out – it won't help.

What should he do? Can he like, block them on his phone? He knows he can do that on IM, but he's not sure about his mobile. He can't ask anyone – it'd just make them panic. Maybe he could change his number? But he doesn't want to waste money on a new phone, and he doesn't know if you can change numbers without changing the phone the number belongs to. And he still can't just _ask_ – even if he doesn't let anyone know about _this_, they'll think he's an idiot. Besides, he wouldn't put it past these two to just find the new one – stalkers.

Finn frowns. Technically, only Azimio sent this text, not Karofsky – it's weird that he thinks of them as like one person now, isn't it?

Finn sighs. He's just about to try and do something when the phone actually rings. He's hesitant, until he checks it – the phone says it's Artie. He sighs in relief.

"Dude, hello?" he answers. And he tries to forget what just happened.

* * *

He expects it too be one photo, one text. It's not.

_Cocksucka here ur job!_

_Though u'd like dis..._

_hey, ur ass all red n stretched yet?_

_thinkin bout stretchin ur mouth like that, hey?_

_We gonna see ur cock? Saw everything else._

Sometimes they have photos, sometimes they don't. Sometimes it's from Karofsky's phone, or Azimio's, or someone else's they must have stolen or something – at least once, they lure him into a false sense of security by somehow getting _Puck's_ phone to send a message. Sure, Puck texts him after promising he totally beat their asses for stealing his phone (without getting suspended for it, smug jackass), and whatever it was they erased it from the sent box. Still, that makes Finn pretty anxious about answering at _all_.

After like, the ninth message (the second day of his suspension, about seven thirty) he just turns his damn phone off. It doesn't work out so well, 'cause by three the next day Rachel is there telling him how worried she was and everything. She even makes her cookies. Seriously.

That makes him feel bad about how often he uses his phone – yeah, he's Gen Y and everything, but is it really so big he can't go less than a day without his phone, and not make everyone think he's been kidnapped by aliens or whatever? Possibly even less time than that, given how Rachel could not have baked her cookies between the time school let out and the time she showed up here.

She pretty much forces him to turn his phone back on after that. He manages to hide the six waiting messages from her – only two of them wind up been unwanted photos from evil jocks; the rest are just people worrying about him.

On the fourth day of his suspension, he gets taken off-guard by yet another photo. The message is just _look_, but the photo is of Karofsky standing naked and holding some thin metal thing Finn does _not_ want to think about. Weirdly though, the message is from Azimio, and from his phone (Finn's learned to tell 'cause Azimio has slightly better spelling. Not that he can really talk).

He wants to just delete and ignore, like he's done to the other eleven. He'll have to go back to school tomorrow, and he can deal with it there. So he surprised himself – he doesn't even notice he's selecting the number and choosing 'call' until he's already pressed the button.

It doesn't ring for long. "Yo, who is this?"

Finn hesitates. "...Azimio. Dude. Uh, hi."

There's a disbelieving scoff on the other end. "Hudson? Really?" asks Azimio. "What are you doing? We ain't your booty call, man."

Something about that makes Finn's stomach start churning in anger. How can he... After everything they've _said_ (texted, whatever)? "Good. I was calling you to tell you to _piss off_."

Azimio chuckles. "Really?"

"Really," says Finn. "This isn't funny anymore. From my point of view, it wasn't _really_ funny to start with... But whatever joke there was for you guys, it _must_ be wearing thin by now. Dude, the musical thing was like, almost two weeks ago. You're _really_ freaking me out with all this crap, and it so can't be okay, so will you please just cut it out already?"

"But baby it's cold outside," says Azimio. Finn blinks.

"Huh?"

The guy laughs. "I feel sorry for whatever homo boyfriend you have – you must be a total fucking cocktease. Seriously, you show up in your underwear, and then you go all prude about it? Hell, maybe _that's_ why you seem to go through dudes like fucking kleenex – I mean, if you wanna fuck like a whore _and_ hold out on them, you gotta do something, right?"

Finn doesn't know if he wants to stab himself in the head or just _cry_. "Seriously, this isn't cool! Why the fuck do you care so much about my gayness? Which isn't even real!"

Azimio laughs. "You're a fucking moron. You know, someone is gonna teach you what happens when you show off your homo-osity like this."

"Is that what you're doing, with all the pictures?" asks Finn. "'Cause you could at least try learning that taking naked photos of your dude best friend to send to another dude? Totally not straight either."

"Fuck you, Hudson," says Azimio. "Don't call me again."

He hangs up.

Finn throws the phone to the bed in anger. He's suddenly overcome with dizziness – he feels like he's been banging his head against a wall for like an _hour_.


	4. Stand Up For Yourself

**4: Stand Up For Yourself**

He has to go back to school eventually. Well, _duh_ – still, Karofsky and Azimio mostly leave him alone in front of people. Apparently, they're on probation for the whole locker incident. They only go up to him to tell him that – and bitch him out for getting them into trouble like that, because it's somehow _his_ fault. They just aren't happy they have to not pointlessly harass him right now, he guesses.

He doesn't ask about the texts and photos.

Unfortunately, at Glee that Wednesday, he manages to leave some sheet music in his locker. It's not a big deal – Kurt and Rachel glare, because they take this way too seriously and get mad at interruptions, but he just walks off to go _get_ the damn sheet music.

He really, really shouldn't be surprised when they corner him in front of his locker, should he?

"Hey, Hudson," says Karofsky. Finn groans. "Been awhile."

"That's because the principal has warned you off treating me like shit," says Finn. "Now, will you just go away? I have stuff to do?"

Karofsky laughs. "Uh, hate to bring it up, but the Principal ain't here. No-one is. Who's gonna do anything if we do something to you?"

Finn winces. "Come on, guys, just let it go, okay? I just wanna get back to my club. I was getting the sheet music I left in my locker, okay?"

Karofsky and Azimio smirk at each other. "Yeah, I bet you wanna get back there," says Azimio.

"The Queen Fag returning to the Fag hive? And what sort of _celebration_ are you gonna be having?"

"That doesn't even make sense!" yells Finn. "The club is half girls!"

Karofsky shrugs. "Guess they like to watch."

"No! And that wasn't the point!" Finn does his best to stand as tall as possible – his height advantage should be reassuring him about how much danger he's actually in, but it's kind of not working. It's still two against one, and even Finn's math can figure out that's bad.

"Guys… seriously. This isn't okay. What with the photos and the texts, and the constant talking about my sex life, and the – those _dildos_!" He pauses for emphasis. "Guys, you _need_ to back off. If you did this sort of shit to a girl, she'd take out a restraining order. I tried to call you and tell you this; it didn't work out so well, 'cause you didn't listen then, but please – Leave. Me. Alone."

It doesn't work. Karofsky and Azimio share mocking laughter for a second, before Karofsky shoves him against the lockers.

"Hey!" Finn tries to shove him back and make his escape, but when he pushes Karofsky back Azimio just holds him there. Soon, he's restrained and trying desperately not to panic as Karofsky _seriously_ invades his personal space. _Don't freak out,_ he tells himself, _We're in the middle of the corridor; anyone could come in; they wouldn't be dumb enough to try something…_

"Guys, this isn't funny," he says. "Let me go."

Azimio smirks at him. "That's weird. Thought you'd be jumping at the chance – you're like that with every other dick in the school."

Finn accidentally gives a very girly whimper of fear, and they laugh more.

"Please," he says.

Suddenly, Karofsky lets him go and shoves him again. "Let we'd ever touch you," he sneers.

Azimio and Karofsky laugh as they walk off. Finn leans against the locker, overwhelmed with stress and confusion. What just _happened_?

_Don't freak out,_ he tells himself, determined to stay calm. _Don't freak out._

Still, he waits until they're firmly out of sight before he bends over to pick up the sheet music that fell on the floor.

* * *

"You took your time," says Rachel as he returns, holding the sheet music. He shrugs it off.

"It took me some time to find it," he says, shrugging it off. "My locker is kind of a mess."

Rachel pouts. "That's why I made you those dividers, Finn."

"And I use them!" he defends himself before he realizes it might not be a great idea. "I just, um… don't use them very well?"

"_Whatever_," says Santana from behind him. "Can we just get on with it, already?"

They do so. They sing and dance and Mr. Schue tries to teach him the choreography – Finn's still a bit jumpy, which doesn't help much. He tries not to be – it's not like anything _happened_, but it still makes him squirm a bit when someone touches him – he hopes Rachel won't be holding his hand or anything.

After rehearsal ends for the day, Mr. Schue calls him back. "Finn? Can I talk to you for a second?"

Finn frowns in confusion, but he does so. After the last of his fellow Glee clubbers have walked out, he steps toward Mr. Schue.

"So, um… what is this about? Did I do something wrong?"

Mr. Schue sighs. "No, Finn," he says. He walks forward and tries to put a comforting hand on Finn's shoulder – Finn unwittingly pulls away, and Schue is quick to retreat. "Look, I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," says Finn. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Schue shrugs. "All rehearsal, you were… kind of jumpy. You wouldn't let anyone touch you, not even Rachel – I was just wondering if something was making you act that way?"

"It's _nothing_," says Finn, and yeah, he sounds too defensive. Schue raises an eyebrow at him, and he sighs.

"Okay, maybe it's not nothing," he admits, "But it's not a big deal. Really. I don't want to make you…"

"Finn, just tell me what's going on," says Mr. Schue.

"…You know those guys, the ones who are kind of always assholes to the whole club? The ones who put those, um…"

"Yeah, Karofsky and Azimio," says Schue. "Pretend I can be bothered calling out your language. What is it?"

Finn sighs. "They've been… pretty bad for awhile now. Since I did that whole walk-down-hallway-in-underwear thing. They've gotten pretty creepy about it – they s–" he doesn't want to bring up the text thing. It would just make Schue worry – he doesn't need that. "…They keep going on about, uh, well, my sex life. Or what they imagine it to be. And they _will not_ back off, no matter how many times I tell them it's really not cool."

It's a very understated version, but Schue still looks really mad – shit. "And, the incident with the sex toys was…?"

Finn blushes. "Them expressing their opinion, I guess. They said they thought I'd own more than that."

Schue inhales. "Did this have anything to do with why it took you so long to get the sheet music?"

Finn shrugs. "…Yeah. I mean, it wasn't a big deal. They cornered me outside my locker and we bitched at each other. I'm turning into a total girl with those two, honestly."

Schue doesn't laugh. "Have they tried anything… physical…?"

Finn shakes his head. "Nah." What happened just before doesn't count – they held him against a locker, so what? Plenty of guys have done that to him. And the texts and stuff _definitely_ don't count – that's kind of the point. "Mr. Schue, it's not really a _big_ deal, but… It's weird, you know?"

Schue nods. "You know, if this is making you uncomfortable, I could probably talk to Figgins about getting them in trouble for it."

Finn grimaces. "Got a feeling that wouldn't work. I don't think that dude likes me much."

Schue shrugs. "Couldn't hurt, right?"

* * *

"William, I'm not sure what you're asking me to do."

Will groans. "Karofsky and Azimio are bad news," he says. "Finn – he was trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, but he was pretty clearly _terrified_ of them. You have to do something about this."

"Schue, Mr. Karofsky and Azimio are already on probation for Monday's incident. Fair's fair. They haven't done anything to infringe upon that since the time they were warned, to the best of my knowledge, and hence I can hardly punish them."

"Are you even listening to me?" asks Will. "Look. Finn _told_ me they were making repeated intrusive sexual comments, after Finn had told them more than once he wasn't okay with it. I'm pretty sure that's the Disneyfied version too. This probably constitutes sexual harassment, and if not, it's serious bullying."

"I'm sorry, Schue, but my hands are tied. _You're_ telling me this. Without a complaint from Mr. Hudson himself, the schoolboard and I are powerless to do anything about this."

"Look, you don't have to take _immediate_ disciplinary action," says Will. "Maybe just have him talk to Emma to start, hey? Get him to _open up_; be honest about how bad this is getting. I know he wasn't telling me the full truth."

"And if you're wrong?" Figgins asks. "We planted ideas about two innocent students in the minds of staff for no real reason? Mr. Hudson learns he cannot go to his teachers without them overreacting? Two of our students learn they are both unwelcome and untrusted at McKinley High?"

"_They're not innocent_!" yells Will, much louder than he means too. Figgins jumps in his seat, and Will sighs. "Sorry. But you cannot say you're comfortable with this sort of report – even the _potential_ a student is being harassed is an obvious problem, and it needs addressing. Can you really not see that?"

"The burden of proof is on the prosecution, not the defense," says Figgins.

"This isn't a court case; this is a kid–"

"This is three kids, Schue. And two of them need us every bit as much as the third one does, and they _deserve_ the benefit of the doubt."

"Can we not pretend this is happening in some kind of vacuum?" asks Will. "Karofsky and Azimio are bullies. They make a habit of tormenting the entirety my Glee club in as many varied and interesting ways as possible, not just Finn. They pulled a prank that was humiliating and more than a little sexual less than a week ago. Do you seriously believe they wouldn't do anything wrong?"

Figgins just blinks at him. "Why is this so important to you, William?"

Will's taken aback. "Huh?"

Figgins sighs. "Finn Hudson. Why is it so important to you? Why are you fighting so hard to protect him than I've seen you fight for anything before?"

Will still doesn't get it. "Because... he's my student, and I think he's in trouble...?"

"Schue, you have had students in trouble before, and doubtless will again. Yet... somehow I'll doubt I'll see this sort of reaction from you in regards to anyone else."

Will frowns. "What do you mean?"

Figgins sighs. "William, I don't take saying something like this lightly. But I have to bring it up – having observed you for the last year or so, you do seem... unusually protective of one Finn Hudson. Attached, if you will. At some points, it has unsettled me."

Will gapes at him. "What are you accusing me of?"

"I refuse to make accusations," says Figgins. "And I am certainly not telling you Mr. Hudson – _any_ student – does not deserve your respect and support. But if I were you, I would be careful before associating yourself too closely, and too publicly."

"You're blackmailing me," Will suddenly jumps out of his chair in anger. "That's what this is. You don't want to do anything about this, so you accuse _me_ of being the bad guy and say–"

"Schue, calm down!" calls Figgins. "Don't be absurd. But I have been perfectly clear on this matter – I have neither the ability, nor the certain motivation to do this. The choice still lies with Finn Hudson himself."

"But he's _scared_. He's seventeen, for christ's sakes."

He wants to help Finn. But if people start making accusations...

He cares about Finn, but if he's willing to give up his life for one student – that would make it seem like Figgins has a point.

Finn will be okay, right? He's a strong kid.


	5. Stop

**5: Stop**

He's just trying to get some stuff from his football locker – he thinks he left that wallet with the half-frog, half-lion head logo thing in here. And, as per the luck he's been having for awhile now, the two people he wants to see least manage to come in.

"Hey, Hudson," Karofsky calls from behind him. Finn doesn't even bother to turn around at this point; he just thwacks his head against the thin metal of the lockers.

"Seriously, what do you _want_?" he asks, still not facing them. "Are you following me or something?"

"Don't flatter yourself," says Azimio. "Though I'm kinda wondering what you're even getting from there _now_ anyway."

"Yeah. I mean, when we put those plastic dicks in your locker, we weren't meaning to give you an idea."

Finn feels a little nauseous as he hears the sound of laughter and the slap of a hi-five behind him. Despite himself, he blushes, and decides not to turn back around – it won't help with them.

"I think I left my wallet in here," he says, although he doesn't no why they would believe him.

He hears footsteps; breathing getting louder. He shivers, but doesn't turn back around – he doesn't know what's happening. Suddenly, something – someone – is pressed against his back, hot and close, and _what the everloving fuck_? "You can't even look us in the eye. But you're pressed against the wall like you're begging someone to fuck that ass. What are we meant to think, Hudson?"

He spins back around fast, and shoves that someone away – Azimio; Karofsky is lingering closer to the door. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" he screams. "Okay, I don't get it. That simple. I'm not gay, and I don't want you two assholes. _Fuck. Off._ How has this not sunk in already?"

Azimio slams him against the locker again, and Finn manages to bang his head. _Ow! "_You're a fucking moron," he says.

"You really haven't learned this, have you?" asks Karofsky, stepping closer.

"Uh, no, I don't care," Finn shoves Azimio again and manages to break free, but when he tries to get out Karofsky catches him by the wrists. He winds up being pushed back into the lockers, and tries to wriggle out of the grasp.

"Come on, guys, what are you doing?"

They two laugh at him. "You don't get to play us like this, Hudson," says Azimio. "You don't show off what a little fag you are and somehow go back 'cause the full thing freaks you out."

Karofsky grips his wrists harder, as Azimo grabs him by the waist to hold him back. "You started this, and now you're going all the way."

Finn's eyes go wide – he _really_ doesn't want to imagine they mean what he thinks they do, but he can't help it given everything, and he needs to get out, _now_. He knees Karofsky in the balls, which makes the guy drop his wrists, but Azimio quickly punches him in the stomach, winding him. It's enough that Azimio manages to press him up against the locker with his full weight, and even though Finn's taller, he can't get away.

"You know, I would have just returned the favor for him, but I didn't wanna touch your dick and have you like it," says Azimio. Finn whimpers in fear as he suddenly becomes more and more aware of something – something short, hard, warm, currently jabbing into his thigh despite layers of clothing.

"No," he groans, struggling against the full body grip he's under. "Please, stop. Guys, this isn't funny. Please. I don't want... _Stop_. Just let me go, please."

"Knew you'd beg," mutters Azimio. Finn's not sure how to interpret that.

From a bit back, Karofsky's mostly recovered. "Okay, you're gonna pay for that," he says. "We thought we might not take this so far, or make it good for you or something – but if you're going to be an asshole about it, you deserve everything you get."

"Yeah," says Azimio, and now he's starting to full-blown grind against Finn's thigh. Finn shakes his head desperately. _This isn't happening_.

"Oi, 'Zim," calls Karofsky, "Give us a shot."

Azimio looks over his shoulder. Finn tries to take advantage of his distraction to kick the guy off, but the way he's pressed makes it impossible. "Dude, if he makes a break for it, it's your fault."

Karofsky snorts. "Like this homo could fend us off anyway."

Finn flinches, and Azimio shrugs. Then he _throws_ Finn across the room, and Finn doesn't get time to stop himself and fight back before Karofsky gets him. He does his best to push the guy away once he's there, but Karofsky punches him _hard_ in the stomach, again. It knocks Finn off long enough that Karofsky can shove him down, onto the floor, and climb on top of him.

"Always knew this would happen," Karofsky mutters, pushing down his crotch on Finn's. "Always knew you'd wind up flat on your back like this."

Finn whimpers, and tries to push Karofsky back by the shoulders. "Get off me," he says. "Get off!"

It doesn't work, but Karofsky looks annoyed. "Dude, some help here?" he calls to Azimio over Finn's body. "Come hold his hands down."

Azimio shrugs and does so, even though Finn struggles, it doesn't do him much good.

"Stay _still_, will you?" asks Karofsky, still riding Finn's body. "It would make things a lot easier."

Finn, in the best act of defiance he can muster, spits in Karofsky's face.

"Fuck you," he says. "Why would I make this easier?"

Karofsky rolls his eyes. "Uh, so you don't scream in pain and may or may not even wind up getting off? God, you're a piece of shit."

Finn wants to punch him. He manages to break free one of his arms, and vaguely aim it; he misses, but then tries to roll over. It knocks Karofsky off him, but Azimio still has his other wrist and it winds up twisted uncomfortably. He tries to crawl away, but Karofsky pounces and holds him down by the shoulders.

"Fucking cocktease. Just _behave_ already," Karofsky grumbles, and to emphasize, he gives Finn's ass a sharp _smack_. He yelps – it doesn't hurt _too_ much, but it's _humiliating_.

"Think he liked that," Azimio chuckles, and Finn wants to be sick. "Now, should we get this show on the road, dude? Get his freaking clothes off already."

Finn's eyes go wide in panic. "You sure? That's probably not the best idea," says Karofsky, and _huh_? For a tiny, pathetic second, Finn thinks he's gotten a last-minute reprieve. "We're not doing anything he'll get off on."

_You're really, really not_, Finn thinks. "Then... what are we gonna do?" asks Azimio.

Finn can practically hear the smirk. "Dude. Deep Throat's been worming his way into the huddle for years. Get his mouth open."

Azimio looks like this is the best idea he's ever heard, and Finn squirms away. No, this isn't going to happen. He won't _let _it happen. Azimio's big fat hand is all over his chin, trying to get his fingers into Finn's mouth. Finn keeps his teeth pressed firmly together, even as Azimio pulls his lips back, and the guy groans in frustration.

"He has to make it fucking hard, huh?" he asks. "Come on, Hudson. We _know_ you want it; you're not fooling anyone."

"I thought I wasn't meant to get off?" Finn blurts out before he can remember – _don't open your mouth!_ Azimio takes advantage of the distraction and shoves four fingers in; Finn shrieks a little and tries to push them out, but Azimio holds him by the neck and thrusts his fingers in deeper.

"Don't you dare. This is just my fucking _hand_, for christ's sake. Didn't you start this with your girly body image shit? You gotta get used to having these down your throat, surely."

Finn narrows his eyes, and bites down, _hard_.

"Fuck!" calls Azimio, pulling the hand out. "What is wrong with you?"

Before Finn has the chance to take advantage of this, Karofsky pounces, pinning Finn's weight to the floor with his body. "Fucker," he mutters. "Don't you try and get out of this. We're gonna teach you what it means to be a homo 'round here, okay?"

"Screw you!" yells Finn just before _something_ stabs into the underside of his thigh. Something sharp, cold and small – it cuts through his jeans and breaks skin, and Finn screams in pain. "Aaargh! What–"

"Key," Karofsky says, sliding a hand under Finn's stomach. "Get up. On your knees."

Karofsky pulls him up and kneels behind him, keeping him in place. Finn tries to break away again, but suddenly Azimio is standing in front of him, holding him back as well with one hand as he roughly tugs down the zip on his jeans with the other.

They fall down, and Finn realizes the guy isn't wearing underwear – he can also feel Karofsky laughing against his neck. Finn stares down at the floor – he really, _really_ doesn't want to see that. But Azimio grips him by the jaw, and forces him to look at it. Finn closes his eyes.

"Oh, for christ's sakes," groans Azimio. "Just get it over with. If you didn't play hard to get so much we'd be done by now."

Finn shakes his head, still squirming to get away from them. Then one of Karofsky's hands moves – under his jaw, grasping his neck firmly.

"Open your mouth, or I will fucking suffocate you, fag."

_Oh god_, thinks Finn as he struggles to breathe – he chokes and gags. He wonders where his hands are and how to use them to pull Karofsky off, but he finds one still pressed painfully behind his back and one being held up by Azimio. There could kill him... they want this from him, and if he won't give it they'll _kill_ him, and it was just them being douchebags and a locker full of sex toys and some photos and how did this _happen_?

Finn slowly, reluctantly, trying very hard not to cry, opens his mouth.

"Fucking finally," says Azimio before he suddenly shoves it right in – Finn's first instinct is to cough and gag and splutter and spit in back out, but Azimio grabs him by the hair and holds him there. It tastes awful; it feels awful; he thinks he's going to be sick – it's nothing like when girls do this in porn; he can't understand why they would.

"There. Take it down your throat, fag."

Finn's still coughing and gagging; Azimio is _fucking his throat_ and it _hurts_. He can feel Karofsky humping against his ass as well, in time with Azimio, like they're some kind of device designed to fuck him raw and throbbing. He doesn't realize he's started crying until Karofsky points it out.

"Look. Little girlie's sobbing for her momma," Karofsky says, sneering in Finn's ear. Finn whimpers around the cock forced into his mouth – what would Mom say if she saw this; him, right now?

If anything, that seems to turn Azimio on more; he grips Finn's shoulder tighter and thrusts harder down his throat. It hurts more, but it makes it over soon; Azimio comes down his throat and Finn starts choking on the thick, milky, salty liquid. It's disgusting. Azimio pulls out of his mouth with a groan, little bits of come landing on Finn's chin. He starts to spit it out, but that mostly lands on his chin too. Then Azimio snaps his jaw shut.

"Nah. I wanna see you swallow."

Finn whimpers, but he doesn't have the energy to resist anymore. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to swallow the slime in his mouth – he's going to be sick. Behind him, Karofsky laughs.

"I can believe you just did that." He's still got his arms wrapped around Finn, almost like a hug – but evil.

"Can I go now?" Finn asks. He knows he's got come all over his face, and people are going to ask about that, but he doesn't _care_ because he needs to get out of here, _now_.

"Dude, no way," says Karofsky. "That's so unfair."

Suddenly, he's standing up, but still has Finn pushed down by the shoulders. Finn tries to get away again, but Azimio stands in front of him and pushes him down too. Finn's never had a problem with small spaces, but right now he feels like he's about to be squashed to death.

"Dude, turn his head around," says Karofsky, and suddenly Finn's head is being yanked almost one-eighty degrees to face Karofsky's dick as well (when did Karofsky lose his pants?). Finn tries to look away, but he doesn't want to break his neck, so his body turns in that direction as well – he wants to think of that as anything other than a mixed message.

"Please, not again," he whimpers. He isn't strong enough to fight anymore, but Karofsky just rolls his eyes.

"You are such a fucking drama queen. Or just normal queen," he says, dragging Finn's head toward his cock by the hair. "Huh. Guess when you were being an asshole to me for getting pubes, you weren't expecting to come this close in contact with them, huh?"

Finn stares up at him, eyes wide and tear-stained. He can barely even figure out what Karofsky's talking about, but when he does... "Dude, is _that_ what this is about? Really? I was an asshole in fifth grade?" he chokes, trying not to cry too hard. "I'm – I'm sorry, man, if that's it, but it was seven years ago and please let me go, I can't–"

"For god's sakes, shut up and _suck_," says Karofsky. Finn makes token resistance of keeping his mouth closed, but Karofsky just pushes him harder and he gives in – that shit is hurting his head. The taste is still gross, but his mouth is still thinly coated with Azimio's come, so it's not as much of a shock to the system. Karofsky's actually kind of small – Finn doesn't even feel the urge to make fun of him for it – so it doesn't hurt quite as much, but Finn still chokes as it hits his gag reflex. He feels weirdly numb right now.

Then Karofsky starts digging his nails into Finn's neck.

"You fucking _suck_ at this. No pun intended," he growls, and Finn's first thought is _what?_ How can he even say that, when he's– "Fucking _do_ something already."

Finn's already struggling enough – it tastes awful and it hurts and it makes him sick; he wants it over; he wants to _go_. But he realizes that being... _active_ might make Karofsky come quicker; make this end. With a badly held back sob, he slowly inches his mouth further up, and uses his tongue to give a few nervous licks to the cock in his mouth – he's careful to avoid the head and the slit, because he doesn't want to have to taste any sooner than he has to. He has absolutely no idea what he's doing, really, but Karofsky seems to like it enough to come quickly – the taste still makes him want to puke, but _thank god_.

Suddenly, they're down on their knees, on Finn's level. He squirms uncomfortably, trying to get away from them, but there's nowhere to go. Behind him, Azimio laughs.

"Knew he'd like it in the end."

"Well, fuck," says Karofsky, looking annoyed.

"I didn't," he says. He still can't look them in the eye. "Shut up. Can I _please_ just go home now?"

"Well, you've got legs, so technically yeah," Azimio leans into him, making Finn shudder. Karofsky shrugs mock-casually. Suddenly, Finn's arms are grabbed again, and twisted behind his back. "But if I were you, I'd stick around. See where that takes us?"

Finn whimpers again, but _suddenly_ the door swings open. "What the hell is going on in here?"

Coach Bieste bursts into the room. To start, she just looks her usual football coach amount of mad. But as she starts processing what's in front of her – Finn stuck between two other footballers, them minus their pants, him crying and with come on his face – her eyes start to narrow. She's real mad now.

Finn can only stare back at her.


	6. Get Help

**Author's Notes:** So. This plot really didn't account for last night's episode. Basically, we're going to be going AU from here on in, basically because I don't feel like rewriting to accommodate Karofsky. :P Although it shouldn't be a big deal; the plot should still work if you imagine what we found out yesterday is true.  


* * *

**6: Get Help**

She doesn't say anything. Karofsky's and Azimio's bodies stiffen slightly, but the don't say anything either – Finn flinches. He _can't_ say or do anything – then he realizes. He has to start _fighting back_ again, or else she might think...

He starts breathing fast, trying to pull his arms out of Azimio's grasp. "Stop. No. _No._ Let me go!"

Azimio just holds his wrists tighter, hard enough to bruise if they're not already – Finn's not sure. Finn struggles, and Karofsky shoots Azimio a warning look over his shoulder – something like _dude, there's someone here._ Azimio lets go. Finn tries to kick them away and get to his feet; he's cramped in all kinds of weird places and he stumbles, but he manages to make his way behind Coach Bieste. Yeah, he's hiding. He admits it.

Bieste looks backward, at him, and Finn suddenly flushes with shame. He tries to wipe the come off his chin with the back of his hand, for what little good it'll do. He tries not to, but lets out another sob by mistake. The Coach stares at him in shock, but turns back to Karofsky and Azimio after awhile. He can't see the look on her face.

"What are you doing?"

Karofsky and Azimio share a _look_ – Finn can't decide whether they seem scared or not.

"...Shit," says Azimio. He sounds like he's been caught doing something a lot less evil than he was, Like he's just _mildly_ worried; like the worst this can do is...

"Oh god," says Karofsky. "Coach Bieste, _please_ don't tell anyone about this. Okay, yeah, this is probably against a lot of school rules..."

_School_ rules? What?

"Yeah, uh, we're sorry and all..." Azimio says, biting his lip. "This is just sort of something that happens. Uh, I dunno... Hudson likes it. Us. Well not really us because we're still assholes to him, but he likes getting us _off_, and... dude, Coach Bieste, we're teenage guys."

Finn's eyes go wide, and his first impulse is to scream, but he winds up gagging on the come still caught in the back of his throat. They just – they cornered him in the boys' room, pinned him down, forced his mouth open and made him suck their dicks while he _cried_ and _begged_ them to stop, to just let go of him, and now they're talking about him like – like he's some kind of _slut_. Like he's _their_ slut. And how...?

Bieste looks back and forth between Finn and the other two, looking disbelieving. "No way," she says. "I just walked in on your two pinning him between your bodies, holding his arms back, before he started yelling and telling you to let him go – and you're trying to tell me this was somehow _his_ idea."

Finn lets out a small sigh of relief. She believed it. When he started telling them to back off, she believed...

Something about that makes his stomach churn. After all, he wasn't really fighting back before she came in – and if that's meant to be the proof he didn't want it, is someone going to think that means...?

Karofsky and Azimio share another look. "Coach Bieste, he's faking," says Karofsky – it sounds weirdly realistic, which really doesn't help that sensation in Finn's stomach. "No-one wants to get found out as a cocksucker, after all."

"Okay, trying to win creditability – you're going at it _really_ badly," says Coach Bieste.

Azimio actually has the guts to scoff – Finn wants to punch him in the face, but he's _not_ going back to that side of the room. "Whatever," he says. "You've got no proof, and we're leaving."

"Like hell you are," Bieste takes a step to the door, and Finn steps away not to be behind her anymore – because they're _coming _there, and... "I'm calling the cops."

"No way," Karofsky walks straight up to her. "Now get the hell out of our way, dyke."

"You're staying right here," Bieste says, giving Karofsky a slight shove for emphasis – Finn's not really sure she's allowed to do that, but shockingly, he doesn't care. There's a pause as Karofsky just _stares_.

And then he socks her in the face.

"Fuck!" cries Bieste, grasping her nose. Finn holds his breath, but Karofsky and Azimio just take advantage of the moment to run out the door. Finn thinks he hears laughter. Bieste looks like she wants to yell and tell them to come back, but she doesn't.

She looks at Finn. "You okay, kid?"

He barely understands the question. After a long moment, he says "N-no."

Bieste sighs and her shoulders slump, and she looks like... she feels _sorry_ for him. Somehow, that vague nausea turns into actual sickness – _shit_. He holds a hand to his mouth and struggles to hold it back as he looks around desperately for the trashcan. He finds it, and throws himself over it. Pukes. Little bits of white mix in with toast from this morning and the chicken-thing they have at lunch.

Once he finishes, he realizes vomiting _here_ was kind of a bad idea – it's just a paper bin, with holes in the sides, so now his sick is oozing out onto the floor and _ew_.

"Toilets," says Bieste, pointing at the door that leads to them like he wouldn't actually know where they are – which, okay, given he didn't choose to start puking in there in the first place, he can kind of forgive her for that. He runs, slams through the door and throws a cubicle open before he can be sick again. Little specks of it miss – land on the seat and floor. Still, he decides not to beat himself up about it.

He retches until he's expelled as much of _that_ from his gut as possible. Then he breaks into shivers, dry heaving into the bowl. He's sweating like a fucking elephant. A hand lands on his shoulder, and he jumps a fucking mile – _Relax_, he tells himself. _It's just Coach Bieste._ She hesitates until he finally relaxes, and stops being scared just by the touch.

"I'm really sorry, kid," she says. "We should have – there are a couple of guys like that at every school, and no-one's ever really sure what to do with them. No-one thought they'd–"

"It's cool," says Finn. It's probably not, but he's really not ready to think about that yet. He feels... kind of like he's in shock, and he'd kind of like to stay there, because he's got a feeling as soon as he comes out he's going to wind up throwing himself on the nearest road in front of a two ton truck. Which probably won't help much.

Bieste just gently rubs his shoulder, and it's pretty obvious she has _no_ idea what to do. But Finn doesn't either, so it's hardly like he can blame her or anything.

Speaking of which.

"So, um–" he kneels and turns to look at her, coughing because there's still left over jizz in his throat, and _fuck_. "...what do we do? What do _I_ do? Now? I don't understand..."

Bieste sighs sadly. "_Right_ now? We need to get you to a hospital. Test for injuries, STIs, all that nasty stuff. Come on. I'll get you to the nurse's office; call an ambulance."

He nods. He feels about ten, being told to go get a lollipop from the doctor like this, but he obeys – maybe she'll have actual lollipops? He tries to stand, but his legs are shaking so hard he winds up collapsing and banging his head on the cubicle wall. He just stays on his feet, but still. "Fuck."

Bieste sighs and wraps an arm around his waist, letting him put his weight on her. He hopes she can't smell the come that's still on his chin – he tried to wipe it away, but he didn't do it very _well_.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I'm like, really heavy..."

"It's okay," she says easily, and reaches for the door.

"Wait," he says. "Is there anyone...? I just, uh, I don't want people to see me like..."

Bieste winces, though she tries to hide it. "It's sixth period. They should be in class."

Finn manages a one of Kurt's trademark eyebrow raises. "Dude. It's high school. No-one's _ever_ in class."

Bieste rolls her eyes. "Well, they _should_ be," she says. She checks outside the door. "The coast is clear."

Finn nods and they dare to walk out.

"I guess that was why you were here in the first place?"

Finn bites his lip uncomfortably. "No, uh, I just–"

"Finn, it doesn't matter. Not after this."

He bites his lip – which proves to be a bad idea, because it's all sore and swollen and sensitive. She might say that, but he's not sure. And he's gotten himself into so much trouble, and he doesn't want more.

* * *

"Jenny?"

Finn keeps behind Bieste slightly, arms wrapped around himself. He's stopped shaking enough to _walk_, but he's still pretty uncomfortable. He's pretty sure he's pulled something.

Mrs. Halverson looks up, seeming... worried. "Coach Bieste?" she asks. "Finn Hudson? What happened?"

Bieste throws a look back at him, but he can't – he _can't_ say it. Not yet. His brain is still all over the place. Coach Bieste just sighs and turns back to the nurse.

"There was... an incident. Two of this guy's teammates... assaulted him. Sexually. We need to call an ambulance, or the police, but for now..."

Finn flinches at hearing it put into words – it's not exactly what he was scared she'd say (he's not even sure if _that_ word is technically accurate; he's never looked it up), but it scares him. He's never been a hundred percent certain what an 'assault' even _is_, because he's heard it used in context for just about everything ever, but somehow he knows...

The nurse nods. "Okay. Of course. Go lie on the bed, Finn."

Finn looks back at Bieste awkwardly, but she gives him the nod. He bites his lip, and _slowly_ (his legs are still really cramped) walks to the bed in the other part of the office. The nurse follows him in, taking the seat next to it. Bieste lingers in the doorway.

"I'll go call an ambulance. And tell Figgins," she says, and he flinches.

"Do you have to?" he asks. "'Cause, I'm not sure I want... Plus, that dude sort of seems to hate me for some reason, so I'm not sure it would really help."

"Finn, he's an educator, I'm sure he doesn't hate you," she says. "Or at least, if he does, he can't show it without the board tearing him a new one."

"He tried to ban Tina's clothing 'cause he thought she was a vampire or something. He can be kinda unprofessional."

"Finn, I have to. A sexual assault occurred against a student on school property; there are like... regulations. I'm sorry."

She walks out, and Finn groans and leans back against the headboard. It's not good for his already-aching neck, but he ignores it. The nurse looks sympathetic.

"Are you injured?"

He shakes his head. "No. Not really. Well, like, bruises and stuff, but..." a dull throb of pain reminds him. "Oh, and Karofsky kind of stabbed me in the leg with a key."

"Can you show me?" she asks. He hesitates.

"Do I have to?"

She purses her lips. "I know this must be difficult and uncomfortable, Finn, but I really do need to see if it's serious or not; make sure it doesn't get infected. So... yes."

Finn bites his lip, but he obeys. He wriggles down the bed and rolls over. "It's on the downside of my thigh; the, uh..." he wants to identify which leg, but he can't really tell 'cause of the left and right thing. _Think, Hudson. If you were reading, which side would it be on?_

"I see it," says Halverson, which is useful because even if he could identify which leg it was, it would be different from her point of view and they'd get confused. She pokes and prods the hole in the fabric, and he tenses. _Relax,_ he tells himself. _It's the nurse. She's trying to help_.

"It doesn't look terrible," she says. "It's a shallow cut. Still, could be troublesome if infected. Stay here; I need to go get some antiseptic and bandages. Don't turn back over."

He lies there, face pressed against the pillow at an awkward angle, and he closes his eyes. He doesn't like lying here like this. He feels vulnerable and exposed, like anyone could come in and just–

He's shaking again, but at least this time he doesn't have to stand.

Mrs. Halverson walks back to him, tube and bandage in hand. "Here," she says, screwing the top off. "Um," she says, "I know this must be awkward for you, but could you remove your pants for a minute? I can't really put this on with them..."

Finn's head snaps up. "No!" he says, way too quick. "I... um... sorry, but I can't... Can you even have me do that? Won't you get in trouble? 'Cause you're not technically a teacher, but you're kind of close enough and there's gotta be rules against that."

She sighs. "I'm a nurse, Finn. There are allowances. You could wait until you get to the hospital, but I thought this would be easier. However... I can understand your discomfort... You don't have to if you don't–"

"No, no, it's cool," he says, breathing heavy. She looks disbelieving, but he _can't_ freak out. If he freaks out now, then he's not going to survive this and that would suck.

He bites his lip and rolls onto his side, awkwardly fumbling with the zip on his jeans. He closes his eyes to keep himself together, then opens them again because not being able to see anything that's going on isn't actually really comforting.

_Don't freak out_, he tells himself. _She's just helping. She's one of the good guys. You're one of the good guys. If you start freaking out around your fellow good guys, you'll fuck everything up _more_. They didn't even take off your clothes to do... what they did; there is not reason to go all trauma about this._

He slides his jeans down to his knees, just enough so she can actual get at the key-mark. He will not go further. "Just... could you do it quick?"

She nods, and he rolls back onto his stomach. He's suddenly struck by the urge to laugh – he went strutting down the hallway in his _boxers_, like he had nothing to be ashamed. That's how this started anyway. And now he's too scared to push his jeans all the way down for medical reasons. If anything, the plan worked.

He smothers the laugh against the pillow – because he's scared of what'll happen if _they_ think _he_ thinks this is funny. Maybe they'll think it wasn't really an attack, and he's just manipulating everyone for kicks?

Mrs. Halverson smears a little of the antiseptic on his cut, and he shivers. He tells himself it's just from the cold. Suddenly, she's pressing the bandage down, and fixing it in place. He doesn't even need to raise his leg.

"There. You can pull your pants up now."

Finn frowns, and rolls over. He pulls his jeans up, and lies back against the bed. He feels like he should still be crying. Why isn't he crying?

Mrs. Halverson looks at him sadly. "Finn... can you tell me exactly what happened?" she asks. "I know they assaulted you, but... from the state of your clothing, and the lack of damage to your rectal area, I assume it did not progress to penetrative intercourse. Did it?"

"...I don't know what that means," he admits.

"What I'm asking is – did they have anal sex with you, or not?"

Finn shakes his head hard. "No." There's something about that sentence makes him squirm, more than it just not being true. It's just – _have sex_. Like if they had, it would have been normal and cool and, well, consensual.

Mrs. Halverson doesn't mean that, he knows. She's just trying to put things in words he'll, like, understand.

"So... what did they do to you?"

Finn bites his lip. "They... they made me blow them," he admits.

"They forced you perform fellatio on them? Both of them?"

Finn doesn't know what fellatio is, it's probably the same as a blowjob, so he nods along. "Yeah," he says, voice croaking. "Well, uh, I didn't so much perform anything with Azimio. I just kind of got held there while he stuck his cock down my..."

Mrs. Halverson nods. "Then... Karofsky?"

This could sound bad. "He wanted me to actually, like, do stuff. To get him off. And I – I guess I'd kind of stopped fighting back at that point, and just wanted... I just wanted to get over as quick as possible, y'know? So, um, I guess I – I just did some shit with my tongue. Get it over with. I didn't want to, I swear. I just needed..."

She looks weirdly thoughtful. "You stopped fighting back when it came to be Karofsky's turn?"

"I – I kind of stopped fighting back when I physically couldn't anymore."

"But you did before that?"

"Yes!" he yells. "Dude, I fought back like, crazy hard – I didn't want–"

"I'm not questioning that, Finn," she says. He's not sure he believes her. "Did you try calling for help?"

"I – uh... No, I guess."

"Why not?"

"I just didn't think of it, okay!" he yells. "Back off!"

She sighs. "Okay. Finn, just relax until the ambulance gets here."

He sighs, and stares. She said she wasn't questioning him... but that sounded a lot like it.


	7. Tell The Truth

**7: Tell the Truth**

"...I'm going to let you repeat that question, so I can make sure I heard it right – because I'm pretty sure I didn't just then."

Figgins sighs. "Shannon, don't be obtuse. I was asking a question, now please answer: how can you be _certain_ the incident was non-consensual?"

She gapes at him. "Uh, let's check. He had two guys forcibly holding him still, pinning him down. He's all scratched and bruised. He _told_ them to let him go–"

"After you entered the room," says Figgins. "It's entirely possible he was just stopping because someone had entered – that, or he was trying to _fool_ you into thinking it was a sexual assault, so he wouldn't get in trouble."

"Who the _hell_ fakes being practically raped just so they don't get an awkward trip to the principal's office and an unwanted outing? _Seriously_? That's your most plausible theory?"

"Finn Hudson is already on probation for acting indecently at school," Figgins says. "If the encounter _was_ consensual, I have half a mind to expel him for it! That's reason enough to fake something."

"Figgins, he was _crying_," says Shannon. "He could barely _walk_. No-one winds up like that from..."

"Rough and rape are not the same thing, Shannon; I'd thought you'd know better than that. They're teenagers! They experiment with their sexuality, and often do things they don't quite understand the consequences of – Finn Hudson would hardly be the first boy to fulfill his fantasies in a situation that could be construed as somewhat dubious."

"Figgins, this is insane," says Bieste. "The kid is terrified, okay? I know Finn Hudson, and he's not a good enough liar for this. They attacked him, that simple."

"Shannon, I know this is an emotional issue," says Figgins, "But you have to look at it objectively. We have no solid proof either way! And in such a circumstance, we do have to remember the presumption of innocence – David Karofsky and Azimio Adams can't be punished for such a crime until it has been _proven_, and it is Hudson's responsibility to do that, not their responsibility to prove their innocence."

"_I'm_ proving that! I know what I saw," she says. "And haven't you been paying attention? Azimio and Karofsky have treated Finn like shit as long as I've been here; I'll admit, I kind of turned a blind eye when it happened at football, 'cause that happens a lot on sports teams and if I tried to fix every single thing, we'd never get anything done. So yeah, I guess I let it get to this point, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry for that. But I am trying now, and you're not – c'mon, haven't you been paying attention since the whole underwear thing? The dildos in the locker? Can you really say you don't see them taking out just how little they think of him sexually?"

Figgins just stares at her for a long moment. "You feel guilty. You're scared that you may have allowed something horrible to happen," he says. "But you have to remain professional about this. There is simply no _proof_ that this was genuinely attack and not just misguided sexual experimentation, and until there is I can do nothing! It is that simple."

Bieste _really_ just wants to bang her head against the wall.

"Are you paying any attention to what I'm saying _at all_? Are you even trying to remember the situation we're in?" she asks. "A student is in trouble. He wasn't okay with this and deep down you know it, you just don't want to become the school that let this happen. And until then–

She gets distracted by the flash of lights out the window. Not just any lights (getting distracted by any lights at all in the middle of a conversation wouldn't say much for her position as an educator) – they're blue and red, attached to a white medical vehicle.

"Ambulance's here," she says.

* * *

Really, when Finn winds up in the hospital he feels like he's wasting their time. He describes what happened – in a bit more detail than he'd like, actually – and they nod along. They check thoroughly, and don't find any significant injuries, even on the inside of his throat – Finn guesses he should be grateful for that, but he thinks the doctors are looking at him suspiciously when they figure that out, and that makes him squirm. They order tests for STDs (and _that_ makes Finn's heart start doing the can-can), although they explain the scenario probably isn't particularly high risk for a sexual assault, due to the assault being performed orally and the lack of lacerations.

Yeah, that's mostly a direct quote. He doesn't understand what it _means_, but he feels too uncomfortable to ask. He just sort of jumps on the fact he's less likely to get AIDS and die from what they did to him, and tries to be grateful for that.

Oh, and they also give him a lollipop. Yeah, it makes him feel about ten, but it also kind of also replaces the taste of come in his mouth – which is reassuring.

When his mom comes in, she looks like he's been crying. "Oh baby!" she cries before running into his arms, practically crushing him. Still, the touch is comforting, and he returns the hug as best he can.

"Hi Mom," he says. She sniffles and pulls back.

"Oh god, what _happened_?" she asks. "I mean, the school called me and told me it was a... sexual assault," she bites her lip on the words, and looks like she's just _hoping_ he'll understand what she means. He gets the general gist. "I don't know details though. Are you hurt?"

_Well, duh,_ he thinks, but she probably doesn't mean the fact he _feels_ like all ashamed and dirty and screwed-up. "Oh, uh, not really. I mean, bruises and scratches and stuff. And they're running tests for like, infections or whatever. And I _feel_ like shit, but there's no major physical injuries, so..."

Mom gives a small sob. "Infections," she says. Suddenly, she's back to hugging him. "Oh god, Finn, why didn't you _tell_ me?" she cries.

He blinks. "I – I didn't know this was going to–" he can't quite talk. "And after, I mean, I didn't get much of a choice – they called the ambulance and I guess they called you – so I couldn't–"

"Honey, that's not what I mean," says Mom. "I just... when you told me about those two, and the thing with your locker, I just thought they were... bullies. Like any high school. I didn't know they were... Finn, why didn't you just _tell_ me how bad it was?"

He hesitates. "I – I didn't want you to worry," he says. "I didn't think it was – I mean, I thought what they were doing wasn't so bad, y'know? I – I'm sorry, Mom."

"Oh sweetheart, it's not your fault." She holds him tighter, but given what she just said... he can't help but wonder how true that is.

Did he – did he just let it slide, when he shouldn't have? He was feeling really uncomfortable with their crap. He wasn't telling anyone about how bad things were getting because he didn't want them worrying about him, and... he kind of thought he was making a bigger deal out of it than he needed to. Because never in his wildest imagination or most freaked out moments, could he even _think_ of them taking it this far. He'd known Karofsky since _elementary_ school! He's never _liked _the guy, but...

...Did he somehow let this happen, just because he didn't really stop it?

He doesn't say any of this to his mom, because she's already practically sobbing into his neck and he doesn't want to make things worse. He also does his best not to cry along with her, for... some reason.

After awhile, she cools down and pulls back again. "Look at me. Crying like this is all about me. Sorry." He's not sure if she's cracking a joke to try and make things less painful, or genuinely saying how much she sucks, and hence he's not sure how to respond – smile at the joke or tell her she _doesn't_ suck; she's his _mom_. So he doesn't do anything, really, and she sighs. "Do you want to just... go home? Can you? I mean, do they need to keep you in here for... observation, or something?"

He shakes his head fast. "N-no. I mean, I _think_ they said... those tests will take a few days, and I'm not really injured, so I don't actually have much reason to be kept here. I'm pretty sure they'd let me go quick if you nagged," he says. "I... I'd like to go home. I just sort of need to get my clothes."

Mom looks weirdly surprised. "You have your clothes? I mean... those two boys; they didn't damage your clothing... tear it off or anything?"

Finn shakes his head again. "No – they didn't–" his voice falters, and turns into more of a whisper. "They didn't have to take my clothes off."

She doesn't ask him for details, thank god.

* * *

They go home, and she makes him soup. Chicken noodle, very obviously see-through – he doesn't think he could handle eating/drinking (which one is it with soup?) a solid liquid right now, as dumb as that must sound.

She just lets him cuddle up to her on the couch for awhile. He thinks she expects him to cry, but he doesn't.

Then her phone rings.

She seems confused, and then shoots him an apologetic look. He shrugs and nods, as if to say _it's cool, Mom; I won't go crazy if you talk to someone else on the phone for five minutes._ So she answers.

"Hello?"

Finn looks on curiously, as a worried look starts to settle over his mom's face, and she stands up. "Honey, slow down, I can't understand..."

Whoever-it-is clearly does, and says something that makes Mom gasp. "How – Kurt, how do you even _know_ about...?"

Suddenly, he sees his mom's face flush with pure _rage_. "That son of a _bitch_," she spits, and it honestly makes Finn jump. He like _never_ sees Mom like that. "How can he even...?"

Kurt says something, and Mom flashes Finn a _look_, which makes Finn's stomach churn. "I – it's not really something I can – I mean, he hasn't told _me_..." Finn bites his lip, hard enough he might cut through. They're talking about _him_. "...and I couldn't tell you on the phone; I just... couldn't." She pauses, and Finn tries hard to catch her eye – it doesn't work. "Talk to your dad. We'll meet up and... but I can't, not like this. I'm sorry."

She hangs up. Finn stares at her. "So?"

She sighs. "That was Kurt."

He shrugs. "I kinda figured," he says. "So... what is it?"

She sits back down on the couch next to him. "...I'd tell you you might want to sit down for this, but hey," he makes a gesture.

"Mom."

She looks anxious. "Finn... do you know a kid called Jacob Ben Israel?"

Finn blinks. "Uh. Yeah. He's like, a nerd, and he follows everything that goes on at our school like crazy – he's kind of obsessed with Rachel, too. Why?"

Mom bites her lip. "Kurt just told me... apparently that kid had cameras set up just outside the boys locker room. He got photos... of them leaving, and you having to come out with Coach Bieste's help, and with... um... your face..." she doesn't seem to quite know how to say that, but he gets it. Much as he wishes he didn't. "Apparently, he hasn't said much to direct speculation – _yet_ – so everyone's doing it themselves, and it's pretty clear _something_ sexual happened there. Kurt saw the pictures – apparently he couldn't help but _not_ – and knew if something happened, you wouldn't of consented, so he called... He was scared..."

Finn shakes his head. "No," he says. "No. This isn't happening."

"Baby–"

He shakes off her attempt to comfort him, and jumps to his feet. Because _no_. Who would...?

Jewfro has always been a slimy creep with some kind of thing – Rachel called it an 'entitlement complex'. The guy used Quinn's pregnancy to blackmail Rachel for her panties, and then ran the goddamn story anyway. Finn knows that. But he somehow never imagined...

He hasn't thought much about telling people, but he always sort of assumed he'd _have_ to think about it. It'd be his choice. And now... it's not?

"Finn, it's going to be okay," says Mom, standing up and making her way towards him.

Two guys he hates cornered him in the locker room, pinned him down and forced him to give them head, and now the resident creep is spreading the story for kicks, so –

"...How?" he asks.

She sighs and wraps her arms around him, but doesn't answer the question. "It's going to be okay," she repeats again and again, and he cries. He finally fucking _cries_.

It's not going to be okay. He knows that. He's not in shock anymore – he really wishes he was.


	8. Close Your Eyes

**8: Close Your Eyes**

He doesn't actually get many calls. Probably because he's refusing to answer his cell – he's terrified they will have gone back to sending him those _texts_, and that would probably be a very dumb move but Finn just can't–

Mom gives him the day off school, which isn't that much of a surprise. He doesn't know whether Karofsky and Azimio will be there, and he's pretty sure he doesn't really want to know. If Bieste said something, Finn thinks they could have gotten kicked out – but he doesn't want to take a risk. So he hides like a little girl.

Then the home phone rings.

Mom shoots him a worried look at its sound, before saying "I'll get it." Just in case it's something–

Finn doesn't really want to finish that sentence.

"Hello?" asks Mom, sounding about as nervous as Finn feels. "Who is this?"

She lets out a visible sigh of relief. "Oh," she says. "I'll check."

She covers the talking part of the phone with her hand, and looks back at Finn. "It's Puck," she whispers. "He wants to talk to you."

Finn hesitates. Puck has been his best friend since elementary school, and really, when something this shittastic is happening, talking to him should be one of Finn's first impulses. But it's not. Because – Finn loves the dude, but he has been a crap best friend, no lie. What with babygate and everything. And Finn's dealing with the worst thing that ever happened to him, and he should trust Puck to be good with it, but he... kind of doesn't.

But it's Puck. Finn needs to talk to him.

He sighs and takes the phone, moving to press it up to his ear.

"Other way up, sweetheart."

Finn blushes at his mom correcting him. It's been a long time since he had to use the home phone, okay?

"Y'Hello?" he says. There's an awkward pause.

"...Dude. Finn," says Puck. "So... this is really uncomfortable."

"I kinda noticed," says Finn.

"You haven't been answering your cell."

"Uh, yeah..." Finn hesitates – he doesn't want to explain about the texts. They make him feel like – _why didn't you see this coming, dumbass?_ He doesn't want Puck thinking that too. "It's just... bad right now."

"Okay, I don't know if you know, but – Jewfro put these pictures of you–"

"I know," Finn cuts him off. "Uh, Kurt kinda rang and told us. It was... not great."

"Yeah, he seems major league pissed. I totally dumpster'd Israel for that one, but Hummel punched him in the face. Again. Actually, he's really awesome for that, because Jewfro's scrawny enough _Kurt_ can take him down, and he never gets in trouble for it because dude, it's Hummel."

Despite himself, Finn smiles at that. "'Kay. Thanks. And tell Kurt thanks for me too."

"Will do," says Puck. "So, uh... you okay, dude?"

"...Not really?" Finn says. "Um, are Karofsky and Azimio... like... at school?"

"Nah. Went 'round to Azimio's with a baseball bat; whole family's legged it. Went 'round to Karofsky's with a tire iron; his mom and dad are freaking 'cause he ran off. Warning – they kind of think you're some homo who 'converted' their son or whatever, and is now crying rape to ruin his life further. I don't really know. It was all bullshit and kind of homophobic, so I got out of there."

Finn nods along, but feels a little sick. Even if it's Karofsky's family, who kind of have an excuse – people think _he_ started this? "Okay. Does anyone... not horribly biased think that somehow I was cool with this?"

"...Didn't want to tell you this, but kind of, yeah. People suck, dude. It's like, the guys on the team who call you deep throat – they'd love to think they're nickname was right. Not that you'd ever do that, course."

Finn really hopes he's just imagining that weird doubting tone in Puck's voice.

Wasn't he kind of the one who started that whole nickname?

"Okay," he says. "Is Figgins doing anything...?"

"Pretending it ain't happening, basically. Schue seems major league pissed at him, though."

Finn tried to tell Schue. Maybe, if he hadn't tried to make everything seem so cool, it'd be...?

"So, you know when you'll be coming back?"

"What?" Finn blinks at the sudden question. "Oh. Uh. I dunno, dude. When I can without, like, having some kind of psycho panic attack."

"Cool. Take care, dude. And answer your damn cell so Berry'll stop bitching at me about you not getting her texts."

* * *

The next day, Mom still lets him stay home. Unfortunately, she has to work – she tries to reason with her bosses, but it just doesn't work. She spends all her time the night before fretting and worrying if Finn will be okay home alone; saying she won't go if he still needs her.

He tells her to go. He'll be just fine.

She leaves around seven-ish, barely making Finn stir. He tries to get back to sleep.

He finds himself somewhere he doesn't know. It's dark. Wet. He can't see anything, and he can't stand up. There are like weights on his legs, or something.

Suddenly, he's choking. He doesn't understand it. There is something long and thick shoved down his throat; it's dull and flavorless, and he doesn't understand the point of it. What is this? Why is it making him gag? He does his best to spit whatever-it-is out, but really that just makes his throat hurt worse.

His back and legs are cramping, and he tries to shift to get it to die down, but they won't move – it's fucking creepy. He thinks he feels something dripping down his thigh, which is weird because he thinks he's kneeling and that's not where the water is, and it's actually kind of cold so it's not like he's sweating. The ache in his back is intensifying and heading lower, and he's not sure why.

He tries to swipe whatever's dripping down his thigh with his hand so he can check what it is (although he still can't see, he's not really sure how he's going to do that), but he finds his hands are stuck behind his back. No-one's talking, but he thinks he can hear laughter – not normal laughter; really weird, distant, inhuman laughter. Like he's surrounded by kookaburras. Which he's pretty sure don't actually live in the States, so what the hell?

He wakes up sweating and breathing hard. _It was a nightmare,_ he realizes, and he squeezes his eyes shut once again. That makes him uncomfortable, and he looks back to check his digital clock (the analogue one across the room is easier to look at, but he tends to have difficulty figuring out the time from that unless he's fully awake). It's just about quarter past eight.

He should really try to sleep in – he usually does that when he _can,_ it's not like he's got anything better to do, and... okay, it sounds dumb, but he'd kind of like to recover his strength. You know, since everything went crazy – he thinks sleeping might help.

He closes his eyes and rolls on his side, trying to get back to sleep again. It doesn't last long. His back is still sweaty and he kind of – he _really_ doesn't want to have that nightmare again.

The nightmare wasn't even so _bad_. Dream Finn wasn't terrified or anything – confused, mostly. It hurt a bit, but nothing he couldn't handle.

That's kind of the problem. Dream Finn _didn't know_ what was going on. Real Finn remembers the nightmare and knows it was a trauma flashback to what happened, but while he was in the dream... it was just a thing. It wasn't even an overly scary thing. And that makes Finn... feel kind of bad; like he's not fucked up _enough_ or something. He always thought crazy trauma nightmares would be like, just reliving the experience exactly and feeling all those same emotions. This wasn't. This was a reliving, but not one he understood while having it, and that actually scares him more for some reason. Because his head has enough in it right now without his subconscious trying to make things worse.

Finn sighs and sits up. He just wants to sleep. Sleep and not worry about getting nightmares, and exactly their type.

(He can still faintly taste _them_ at the back of his throat).

Logically, he doesn't have to worry. Even if Mom is out, Karofsky and Azimio have gotten what they wanted. And run off – even if he's pissed and Jacob for posting all that shit, it may have just scared the guys enough to make them stop. They can't do anything. They don't even know–

Finn frowns and bites his lip. Do they know where he lives? Might do. Jock stuff and all that. Hell, they found Kurt's house easy enough – can Finn...?

_No_, he tells himself. _Doesn't matter. Don't panic_.

He swallows deeply and pulls the sheets off, slowly walking toward the bathroom. He's pretty sure he's not going to get back to sleep now, and he really hates being sweaty, so he wants to take a shower. A door slams while he's walking there, and despite himself he jumps.

_Come on, man,_ he thinks. _Doors slamming? That's such a fucking cliche._

(Maybe he gives himself boyfriend points for using a Rachel word, but anyway.)

The water is hot and high-pressured, but he reminds himself not to stay in there for long. He doesn't really know _why, _but somehow he knows staying in there too long means something bad. So he does his best not to stay in there too long.

At least this time, he won't wind up jerking off in the shower. Yeah, not going to be in the mood for awhile.

He wraps a towel around himself way higher than normal – like a girl would, just above where his boobs would be. It's probably some kind of trauma making him act like this, although that doesn't really make sense, because hey – didn't take off his clothes.

He realizes he didn't bring actual clothes to the bathroom. Well, that was dumb. Normally, he'd be cool with it, but – he kind of doesn't want to walk back to his room in nothing but a towel. Which is... _dumb_, because he walked here in his boxers and slept in them as well, and they hid less, but... his brain isn't always so rational.

But a towel can be pulled away. Easy. Like, _no_ effort... he can't even make a show of keeping it on, and given how bad he's been at–

_Whoa._ He cuts off his own fucked-up thought process – he can't feel like that. There's no-one even _in the house_; he's not hiding from anyone. _They wouldn't come here._

Or they would.

He's either major league paranoid, or in denial.

To keep himself calm, he dries off enough so he can put his boxers _under_ the towel. He feels a little less exposed. He starts the long walk back to his room, to put on proper clothes – thick sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, plus a heavy sweater. Really, it's way too hot for all that, but he does it anyway – and clearly god is still fucking with him, because it's _November_. He should be able to dress like that by this point

He sighs and looks toward the door. He should go and like, do something – eat. Okay, he's a teenager so he like never eats breakfast, but that's normally thanks to school. When he's home, yeah, he eats in the morning. He eats all the time. He likes food.

Which often has bad effects, which leads to stupid decisions, which leads to–

_Dammit._

He was trying to forget about context for a little longer yet.

Finn does head towards the door, but he doesn't walk out. He gently shuts it – trying not to jump at the sound. Then he walks back to the bed, and sits cross-legged on it.

He gets bored and fidgety pretty quickly.

He's sweaty in his heavy clothing, and that makes him feel more uncomfortable. He won't take the sweater off though, like a sane person, so instead he just opens his window. It doesn't do much good, but it gets him back up, and he starts pacing.

He's _nervous_. And he doesn't really know why.

He darts and dodges randomly over his room, and winds up collapsing against his door. _Dude, relax. What are you scared of?_

Well, that's obvious. Logical or not, he's scared of _them_.

Finn sighs, and then suddenly sees something out of the corner of his eye. A photo he has up on the wall. Football team, late 2008 – freshman year. He cut it out of his thunderclap, because he was so proud of himself for being the quarterback (he was a freshman). Yeah, they didn't win a single game, but that kind of wasn't the point. He was still kind of dumb and believed they had a team spirit or something.

He swallows hard. Karofsky and Azimio are _there_ – Karofsky was always kind of off-again-on-again when it came to the team, for some reason – and Finn just...

He tears the photo down and rips it in two before he really realizes what he's doing. Well, _that_ was kind of dumb. He was _proud_ of himself that year, dammit; that's why he hung the photo up in the first place.

It's like in all those Lifetime movies Mom watches – he shouldn't let them take that from him, right?

He looks more carefully at the photo, now the side he is on and the side those two bastards are on are separate. People looked at him... differently. He can see it in the photo, even though no-one's actually _looking_ him. Old Finn would never have seen this coming. New Finn didn't see it coming either, but that was because New Finn was a dumbass with a major case of denial more than anything – New Finn couldn't acknowledge that he was in _that much_ trouble; that they would take it that far (New Finn should probably stop thinking in third person just about now).

It just wouldn't have _happened_ to Old Finn. People like Karofsky and Azimio wouldn't have been able to come up with an excuse. They wouldn't have gotten away with it – Old Finn (well, Old Puck more likely, because Old Finn still wasn't so great with the being proactive thing) could've had them down somehow like _that_.

He's not going to blame himself for this. He's _not_. That'll go bad. Just... he guesses he kind of didn't remember he wasn't Old Finn anymore.

Finn winds up tearing himself more specifically out of the picture in his hands. He's not really sure why, but... it's like a reminder. He was that dude. He is that dude. He _can be_ that dude.

And it wasn't okay to do this to that dude.

He carefully lays the photo down on the bed, and stares at it for a moment. And then he winds up turning to his wardrobe. He flings it open and rummages through, not really sure what he's looking for.

He gets his hands on something, and gulps. Basketball uniform.

He looks more, and finds his _old_ football uniform, from freshman year and when his growth spurt was sort of still going – he was so fucking proud to pass six foot. He finds his baseball uniform too. He finds a lot of different uniforms – he plays a lot of sports. He throws them onto the bed too.

The uniforms are like the photo. It's all about _that dude_; the one who had some kind of power over everyone, that meant no-one could touch him. Finn doesn't know what he _did_ while he was that dude, but...

He turns around to open the bottom drawer on his chest of them – it means kneeling down, which is not helpful, but he deals. He keeps the old thunderclaps in there, and even his stuff from junior high. He pulls out the first few books and opens them, looking for photos of himself. There are a _lot_. He remembers when he always used to get nagged into joining a whole bunch of clubs around yearbook time, for the sake of the clubs' rep – back when he was a good thing and all.

He pulls the photos out and puts them on the bed, arranging them around the one from the football picture. The clothes are taking up too much room on the bed, so he throws them off. His room is already really messy with his clothes, so he makes sure to throw them where he can actually see them – onto the desk and the fan on the ceiling and his bookshelf. There's one piece of clothing he doesn't throw of, though; the torn halves of his letterman jacket. He hadn't quite saved up enough to buy a new one. He bites his lip and tries to pull each half on – doesn't really work with the two layers he already has on, and it makes him _way_ too hot again, but he keeps it. Even if it's about to fall off anyway.

With the extra room, he can spread the photos out to look at them all at once. He _was_ that guy; he knows that. And that guy might not have always been great – actually, he was kind of a douche. But he was a _safe_ douche.

Can Finn be selfish about this for like, five seconds?

Finn stares more at his impromptu-collage on the bed. He doesn't want to disrupt it, but _moving_ at all kind of does that, even when he tries not to – he still needs to breathe. If he tries to sleep there, it'll get fucked up worse – he'll either _have_ to move the damn thing, or he'll crush all the photos.

(He doesn't want to ask himself what's so damn important about it yet.)

Finn bites his lip and looks to the wall above the headboard. He then starts checking through his bedside drawer – is he out of that sticky stuff for posters?

* * *

He's got like five photos left in the pile and is kind of wondering where they're gonna go when he hears a knock on the door. "Finn? Are you okay in there?"

He looks back anxiously, and sees the clock – it's one-thirty; she said she'd be home about now. Shit.

He suddenly remembers that he like _never_ remembers to close his bedroom door – even when jerking off, most of the time he accidentally leaves it open (most of the time Mom isn't even on this storey, okay?), which has led to some _seriously_ awkward moments in the past, but whatever, he's seventeen, it's not like she was _surprised_.

"Uh..." he hesitates. He hears the door open.

"Baby, are you – Holy _shit_." She gets seriously less tactful as she opens the door and sees. Her eyes are stuck on the wall for a few seconds, before she checks out what he's done with the rest of the room. His eyes follow hers around, and a sinking sensation settles in his stomach. He's got clothing covering most of the furniture like it's from God or something. His clothing is completely insane – three layers in like mid-seventies degree heat, one item of which is broken. He has a whole stalker-tastic photo montage on the wall, except it's to himself, which probably makes it even creepier.

He designed himself a trademark Room Full O' Crazy, and kind of didn't notice 'til she came in.

Mom walks into the room cautiously, pulling his basketball uniform from off the chest of drawers. "Finn, sweetheart, what are you doing?"

He bites his lip and shrugs, although the latter's mostly to stop the halves of the letterman jacket falling off. "Thinking," he says. "Looking at photos." He looks down, ashamed, to some empty space on the bed. "Maybe having a minor psychotic breakdown?"

She sighs and walks over to the bed, sitting down gingerly. "Sweetie..." she looks anxious, "did something... _else_ happen while I was out? Something small that just..."

Finn shakes his head. He knows she just said 'something small', but – does she think they'd come here too? Is he actually... you know, _safe_ in his house?

How does he even ask that question.

"I, uh... I had a nightmare?" he offers weakly. She looks _crushed_.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," she says, and he shakes his head again.

"It's cool." Almost defensively, he grabs the photos he hasn't stuck up yet, and puts them in his lap.

She bites her lip. "Can I ask...?"

He shrugs. "I just..." He looks up at the photos again, not looking her in the eye. A beaming, fifteen year old, weirdly-hatted, in-the-Renaissance-club-for-all-of-five-minutes Finn Hudson beams down at him.

"I was that guy once, you know?" he says. "And... people respected that guy. Even assholes."

When he finally looks back at her, she looks like she's about to break in two. "Oh... Come here, Finn," she says before wrapping her arms around him tight, mumbling into his hair. He stares at everything he has strewn over the room over his shoulder, and realizes he's starting to cry. Mom obviously doesn't seem to mind, so he just lets it happen.

The broken jacket falls off, but it's not a big deal.


	9. Do The Right Thing

**9****: Do The Right Thing**

Finn isn't at school the day after... it happens. Kurt wonders why he is even surprised. Finn has just gone through one of the most painful, traumatic experiences a person possibly can, and it happened at this school. Of course he doesn't want to show up again yet.

Kurt's surprise at being immediately ambushed by Finn's girlfriend throwing herself into his arms is a little more justified.

"Um?" he asks as Rachel presses her head against his chin, gripping on tight. People in the hallway stare at them – he swears he sees someone mouth _isn't he gay?_ However, when he pays attention to Rachel's breathing pattern, he realizes she's on the edge of tears. So he lets her just lie there until she's ready to talk.

With a heady sniffle, she finally pulls back. "I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have... come out of nowhere like that. Oh god, did I wreck your shirt?"

"It's fine," he answers, pulling on the said fabric. "Wrinkle-free."

Rachel nods. "It's just... We all know about... Oh god, _Finn_..."

"I know," Kurt says, a sour taste flooding the back of throat. "It's awful. You're allowed to be hurting."

Rachel shakes her head. "Why? It didn't happen to me. It didn't happen to us. We – we have to be strong for him, Kurt; we have to be here and help him handle this the right way, because otherwise–"

"Rachel, it's okay," Kurt says. "This is scary and stressful. You don't know how you're going to cope with this. You don't like the thought you had two men in your life, in any capacity, that were _capable_ of that and you did not notice. You probably feel guilty for not noticing. Rachel, you can feel all that – if you're going to have any chance of helping Finn, you have to be able to deal with your own emotions too."

Rachel looks unconvinced. "And you say I should write PSA's for a living if we don't make it on Broadway," she says, folding her arms against her chest. Kurt sighs and pulls her forward again, letting her collapse against his chest.

"It's just that... I _knew_ things were bad," she confesses, voice shaking. "I saw. I was with him when they showed up, making awful sexual comments. I knew exactly how much the whole incident with the sex toys in his locker scared him. I realized he may have kept his phone off for a _reason_ a little after I forced him to turn it back on, but I just couldn't find a way to ask. I mean, you remember – how many times did I rant at you, telling you he probably had a case to file for a restraining order?" She's looking up at him now, those tears seeping from her eyes now. "I _knew_ things were out of hand. I just... I was scared of pushing too hard; of making things worse for Finn if it really was nothing. And I just let it..."

Kurt's heart _hurts_. He knows what she's feeling. "Rachel," he says, voice thick and forced, "I know the guilt. I understand. I remember rolling my eyes at your complaints; thinking you were exaggerating. I remember telling Finn I probably would have found the incident with the sex toys _funny_ if it wasn't for who did it. I remember telling him he wasn't even one of Karofsky's and Azimio's major targets; I just thought the way they had persistently humiliated us 'losers' for years added to something more."

He expects Rachel's eyes to narrow in fury; for her to scream and slap him. She doesn't. She looks unsettlingly understanding – but it's not the same thing as what she did, not at all. She was at least trying to do the right thing. Worried about Finn. He was so caught up with his own selfish pain he could never realize the significance of what he was seeing.

He sighs. "Rachel, we are both going to remember a lot of things we said or did 'wrong' in regards to this. Everyone is. And maybe, if we made slightly different choices, things would have been different. But that does not make it our fault, what happened. Finn is not hurt because of us. He is hurt because those two _monsters_ hurt him. He is going to need our help remembering this, so we really ought to convince ourselves of it too."

Rachel nods and falls away from his chest, falling to his side. He lets her thread her hand through his. "So what do we do?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, Rachel. Talk to him. Comfort him. Help him when he needs us."

"Testify legally?"

He nods. "That sounds reasonable."

She bites her lip. "Have you spoken to him since yesterday? He's not answering his cell and I'm worried, and you two _are_ going to be stepbrothers soon, so I was just wondering...?"

Kurt has to shake his head. "No. I called _Carole_, but that was mostly to pass on the warning about what Jacob Ben Israel did with the photos."

"Son of a _bitch_," Rachel curses, and that takes Kurt by surprise because since when does she do that? "How can he do something like that? Doesn't he understand? Jacob Ben Israel is creepy and generally a despicable cretin, but how can he have suck a lack of morals he would publish the photos proving _rape_ without the victim's consent – just for kicks?"

Kurt feels a little sick – especially because it's _Rachel_ saying it. He's never really been able to understand Jacob's obsession with Rachel, even when trying to put aside the effect of sexual preferences, but he is perfectly aware it _exists_. It is deeply unsettling at points – when he heard Jacob used Quinn's pregnancy to blackmail Rachel for her underwear he wanted to be sick. And he didn't like _either_ girl at the time.

Rachel's never really complained to a large extent, but that doesn't make him feel better. Especially given the recent results of just _ignoring_ such behavior.

"Did Carole tell you anything?" Rachel asks, snapping him out of his reverie. "I know how much she cares about him."

"Um... not really. She told me she didn't want to go into detail on the phone, which I guess I can understand... I mean, Finn should at least be there for the explanations of what happened to him."

Rachel nods along. "Alright," she says. They fall into a comfortable silence, before Kurt starts hearing whispering behind them.

"What is she doing? That one's open about it, even."

"Guess she's our token fag-hag for now – since Hudson got outed, she's getting a new target. I dunno, I guess it makes sense if you like..."

Kurt goes still and feels sick. _Since Hudson got..._ Are people that thoughtless and stupid? Can they honestly believe Finn would have _wanted_ one part of this?

Wait, it's William McKinley High School. Of course they can.

"Kurt, what is it?" Rachel asks. She looks like she doesn't fully want to know.

"Didn't you just hear...?" She shakes her head, and he sighs. "Sorry. I just got snapped out of slight sudden-onset naivety – I'm re-realizing the nature of this school. Because people... seem to think whatever happened, happened with Finn's consent. I'm not sure why I'm even surprised."

Rachel gasps. "H-how? What is _wrong_ with this school? Why would anyone thing Finn, _my_ Finn, would under any circumstances let those... _neanderthals_ paw all over him?"

She shakes with rage, and he squeezes her hand tighter to try and keep her calm (it's _Rachel_, so he doesn't really expect it to work, but what can you do?). "I don't know. I assume it's a combination of this school's institutionalized homophobia and pre-existing doubts about Finn's sexuality, denial of the fact something that horrible could happen here, and the fact... well, those pictures _were _fairly ambiguous."

It backfires. Rachel yanks her hand away from him. "How can you say that?" she shrieks. "We both know very well what happened to Finn; don't you make out like there's even a _chance_–"

"I _didn't_, Rachel. We both know what happened to Finn was an assault, plain and simple – however, we know that because we know Finn; we know Karofsky and Azimio; we know the history behind this. It doesn't excuse the sensationalist way the masses are treating this – especially all the homophobia inherent in it – but it is a factor. That's all I meant."

Rachel lets out a little puff of breath she does when her self-righteousness has been deflated. "Fine." Then she sees something out of the corner of her eye. Someone. Puck.

"Do you think he's spoken to Finn?" she asks once their eyes are all focused on the one boy (who is unaware of them). Kurt considers it.

"I'm not sure. On one hand, they've been best friends since early childhood. On the other, Puck has rather betrayed Finn's trust at points in the past as we are all well aware, so I'm not sure Finn would confide in him about this."

Rachel doesn't answer for a long time. "I'm going to go talk to him," she says. "See if he knows the reason Finn won't answer his cell. See if he knows some more about the assault."

Kurt nods along. "You do that," he says. "I don't particularly want to get into that conversation with Noah Puckerman, but if you feel the need..."

Rachel turns around and walks off to initiate said conversation. Kurt looks at her go until he catches sight of something else.

Mr. Schuester _storming_ into Principal Figgins' office.

Kurt's got a feeling that is not an indicator of good things.

* * *

"You let this happen."

Figgins doesn't even have the decency to look _surprised_ by Will's bursting into his office. "William," he says, "explain yourself."

"Don't, Figgins," says Will, shaking his head. "You know exactly what this is about. Finn Hudson? I _told_ you he was scared of those two, and it was sexual. I _said_ something needed to be done. You ignored me, and look what happened. The sexual harassment turned into outright sexual violence. What a surprise."

"So, you have followed the news from that gossipy journal Mr. Israel established," Figgins says – is he trying to make Will feel _bad_ for knowing? It's all over school. How could he _not_ know? "Schue, I know this is an intense situation, but please try and remain calm. I am waiting until I have more information on the situation before making hasty decisions."

"...What information is there to have? Those two – Karofsky and Azimio. They harassed and disturbed Finn for weeks. Then they cornered him in the locker room and forced him to perform sex acts on them. Look, we let Finn down before. I'm not denying that. But we _can't_ keep doing that now – look, Finn's a fairly vulnerable kid _as is_. If people don't get it right after something like _this_... it'd probably kill him, and that's only slight hyperbole."

Figgins sighs deeply. "Your theory is understandable and unsettlingly plausible, but I will not _convict_ two of my students of such a thing without concrete proof – or at _least_ a statement by the actual 'victim', as you would call him. It's easy to assume heroes and villains, William. It is harder to look at the facts. What you say is just another theory, and I have heard many plausible theories. I won't be emotionally manipulated into doing the wrong thing."

Will gapes at him. "Can you even hear yourself?" he asks. "Because all this? Is exactly what you said before... _it_ happened. And now it has, you just will not learn the lesson. I've talked to Shannon; I know what happened. Please, just... He's a kid. Don't screw this up for him."

"I feel sorry for you, William," says Figgins. "I understand you have a close relationship with this student – a perfectly innocent one at that, and it was wrong of me to cast aspersions on that, to try and pressure you out of discussing an uncomfortable issue using that. And now you feel guilty for bowing to said pressure, when I really had no proof. I _should_ have examined the seriousness of this further. If, after looking at all evidence I am convinced this was a sexual assault, I will never forgive myself for letting it happen, I assure you. But until that point... well, none of the three students are even _here_ right now. What would you have me do?"

Will sighs. He doesn't know what should be done either; he just knows he can't let Principal Figgins keep being... _indifferent_. This isn't like cracks in the cafeteria ceiling, or even, as awful as it sounds, jocks throwing slushies in his glee clubbers' faces. This was something...

"Those sorts of people shouldn't be here," he says.

Figgins nods.

"Do something about Jacob, at least?"

"Of course," says Figgins.

It's not enough, but it's something.


	10. Come Back to Us

**10: Come Back to Us**

He has to return to school eventually. Mom keeps offering him more time off, but he has to return, because whenever he's home alone he nods off and has nightmares, and she can't get much leave right now. Dammit.

He walks into the hallway uncomfortably. Everyone's staring at him and he _knows_ that; he was expecting it before he came, but...

Suddenly, there's a small flurry of movement and someone's pressed against his chest. "Argh!" he cries.

"Oh god, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" she frets, pulling back. He looks down at the small lump of brown hair and nerves. Rachel.

He doesn't answer the question, just throws his arms around her and pulls her into a tight hug. He's not sure if he's doing it to comfort her or himself, but whatever, it seems to be doing good for both of them. "It's okay," he whispers against her hair.

After a few more seconds, she pulls away again, sniffling slightly. "I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't be acting like this. I just... I've been so worried, and..."

"It's cool, Rach. I get it," he says, offering her a weak smile. She's worried about him. That's a good thing.

She sighs, falling to his side and clasping his hand. "So... how do you feel?"

He shrugs. He loves her, but he's not sure he wants to go... in detail or anything with her. She's already pretty obviously freaking, and if he tells her about everything; the nightmares and the psycho wall and how bad he feels for not noticing this could have happened before it, y'know, actually happened... her head might explode. Which wouldn't really help anything, so he keeps his mouth shut.

She gently leans her head against his arm as they start to walk. "I'm really sorry, you know."

Finn nods. "I could... kinda guess. I'm sort of expecting that from a lot of people, actually."

"I've been doing the research; I know the numbers of many good sexual abuse support centers, even if they're mostly a bit out of town – we are in Lima, so the only centers I could find that close were pretty much woman-only... Still, there are many that aren't much of a drive, so it would be easy–"

"Um, thanks," he says, to cut her off. He's not really ready to talk about getting help, like, _professional_ help yet. "Uh, maybe. I don't know. But, um, y'know... thanks for trying?"

Rachel gives him an odd look. "Finn," she says, "this is going to be a long and difficult process. You're not always going to be able to cope, especially when you're trying to deal with it in a legal capacity, and... I know it's your choice, but I just thought... that's got to help, right?"

Finn stares at her. He's not really sure about doing anything legal – that means going to the cops, right? However, he kind of doesn't want to bring that up. "I guess," he says, "but I'm sort of just still... processing, or whatever."

She sighs. "Of course."

There's an awkward pause as they slowly walk down the hall, hand in hand. Where are they going anyway? Before he can ask her this, a guy crossing them rolls his eyes and spits "Fag," out. Finn can't help but flinch, and Rachel stops still.

"Finn," she says uncomfortably. "I don't want to have to tell you this, but... I believe a lot of people have misinterpreted the pictures Jacob circulated. They seem to think of this as a consensual encounter; like you just got outed or something. I don't understand it, but I..."

"Oh," he says. He thinks he might understand it. It's McKinley High, right? Didn't Kurt say Jewfro came up to him after the whole locker incident, asking if it was all about some kind of french thing which he thinks is sort of sex? It makes his stomach hurt, and he doesn't want to deal with it, but he's not really surprised or anything.

Rachel looks at him blankly. "That's it? 'Oh'?"

He shrugs. She's not trying to be mean or anything; she seems... confused. Which doesn't surprise him either, when he thinks about it. "I don't know. What am I meant to say? Can I just focus on not completely going crazy right now?"

She sighs. "You're right. I shouldn't preempt your reactions like that. After all, you're going to need my support when you have to do something about this."

He thinks there might be something wrong with that sentence, but he lets it slide.

* * *

Principal Figgins calls him into the office, for... some reason. Okay, Finn knows what it's about. Still, he doesn't really know what Figgins wants from him, so...

The man is writing something down, and Finn squirms in his seat. They're meant to be talking, right? This... isn't much like talking. Maybe Finn should find that a relief, that he's not being forced to talk about it, but it just seems uncomfortable and he feels a little trapped in here. Dumb as that sounds.

Finally, Figgins puts his pen down with a heavy sigh and looks at Finn again. "Mr. Hudson, I don't like dealing with these sorts of situations."

Finn just shrugs. _Well, duh,_ he thinks, but Figgins is still the principal so Finn thinks it's probably a good idea not to say that.

"Alright. If you are unaware of this... a student recently published photos of you and two classmates online. The photographs showed them leaving the boys' bathroom, a little later followed by you, and you showed signs of... sexual activity," Figgins said.

Finn nodded along with this. "Yeah, I, uh, know all that. Kurt called and warned us about the photos. Why exactly am I here?"

Figgins sighs. "Mr. Hudson, talk from those who know you, those familiar with your previous interactions with the two other students, and the report from Shannon Bieste who found you afterward, all give the conclusion that there _was_ a sexual incident, and it was non-consensual on your part. That is also the implication from the time you have taken off school and their sudden disappearance. I do need to ask you, though – was their a sexual encounter, and wasn't consensual or not?"

"Yeah," Finn says. "I mean, there was an... encounter, or whatever you want to call it. And no, I didn't... I didn't want it to happen; they forced me." Figgins nods, and Finn shuffles uncomfortably. "Is that all you wanted to ask?"

Figgins sighs. "Mr. Hudson, you do realize the significance of saying this? If you do so, this school will be forced to take disciplinary action against the two; they'll be expelled at least. All legal action will be at your and your parent or guardian's digression, but as a school, we must take action if you could still be in danger."

Finn frowns. "That's a bad thing?"

"Finn, are you absolutely certain the incident wasn't consensual?" Figgins asks. _Um, wouldn't I notice that?_ thinks Finn. "If you are lying, for fear of your reputation, too keep secrets about your sexuality, if you are worried about punishment for doing such a thing at school – which is against the rules, I confirm – it is important you say it now. Do you fully understand the impact of making such an accusation? If it _isn't_ a hundred percent honest, Mr. Hudson, you need to admit to it now, because whatever you are so scared of cannot be more important than ruining two boys lives–"

"I said _no_," Finn answers, hands shaking in anger. "Why is it so hard for people to get this? Was anyone even paying attention before all this happened? Didn't you notice the, the way they'd always come out of nowhere to harass me and tell me I was a... a... or, um, how bad they were to everyone else in our club, or that whole _thing_ with the dildos in my locker – and it was still totally unfair you suspended _me_ for that, but... Okay, I didn't see this coming either. I don't really know if one of us should've. But really, after everything, why the hell would you think I'd say _yes_? Why is everyone trying so hard to believe that anyway?"

Figgins looks at him blankly. Finn suddenly realizes he's started crying. _Shit_. He starts wiping them away with the back of his hand, and then thinks that it's not such a big deal he's crying – if he's not allowed to cry about _this_, when is he allowed to? Even for a dude, there are times when it happens.

Slowly, Figgins reaches across the desk to hand him a tissue. "I did not mean to insult you, or belittle your experience," he says. "It was just important to confirm, that's all."

_Yeah, sure,_ thinks Finn.

Figgins sighs. "Alright, Mr. Hudson, I have gotten all I wanted from you. From the looks of things, however, I believe it would be a good idea for you to go see Ms. Pilsbury."

"I–" Finn's just about to get all pissed about Figgins sending him off to the counselor because he dares not to like everyone doubting what he says about this. Then he realizes he kind of does want to talk to Ms. P, because it's kind of her job to believe him, so... whatever.

* * *

Things with Ms. Pilsbury are... awkward. She looks like she has no idea what to do with him, which he guesses makes sense, because it's not like this happens a lot. As far as he knows. Fuck, does it? What if there are a whole bunch of people going through this school, who have been through what he went through and... no-one even noticed?

"So. Finn," she says hesitantly.

He smiles a little. "Hey, Ms. P," he says. "Do you have a pamphlet or something?"

She sighs. "Plenty. Yet I'm not quite sure they'd be appropriate right now."

"Oh." Finn's kind of worried that's proof for his little _what if this happens all the time?_ thing from before. But he doesn't really want to think about that a lot, so he pushes it to the back of his mind. He turns to just awkwardly squirming in his chair. He did kind of want to talk to her, but he doesn't really know why, or how.

Ms. Pilsbury side. "Finn, do you want to talk?"

"Yeah. Well, kinda," he says. "I mean... Principal Figgins said it was probably a good idea I go talk to you after he yanked me into his office and made me say what happened. It seemed like a good idea, so I did. I mean, kind of because he was... not being so great about the whole thing, and I was like 'wait, isn't it Ms. Pilsbury's job to be good with this stuff?' so... yeah."

Ms. P frowns slightly. "What exactly do you mean by 'not so great'?"

Finn bites his lip. If he says all this, can he get Figgins into actual trouble? Does he want to? "Er... I guess he was kind of, um, skeptical? Like... he asked me to tell him what happened, and I told him, and then it just sort of seemed like he didn't believe me. He started going on about how, if I was lying I really needed to fess up, before I like, ruined their lives..." he pauses. "You think I overreacted? 'Cause, I mean, I guess he _did_ have to be really sure before punishing them on a sort of, um, rape-y level, that it was actually... but it just _really_ hurt that what I said about all this seemed to be so freaking unbelievable to everyone. Does that make any sense?"

Ms. Pilsbury sighs sadly. "Finn, your feelings are perfectly justified. It was worthwhile for him to ask and make sure it really was sexual assault, but once you said it was he shouldn't have doubted you like that. Unfortunately, that happens every so often. People in positions of authority do tend to be terrible when it comes to things like this. It's awful, and tends to have repercussions on the mental state of the victim, but... it tends to go like that. I'm sorry."

Finn blinks at her. "Oh," he says. "So I can't get him in trouble for it?"

She sighs. "Possibly, but I'm not sure and I can't be certain anyone else would be much better... I'll talk to him, if you want."

"As long as you don't get fired," he says. She smiles and nods.

"Alright then. So... apart from your struggles with my boss, do you want to talk? About the... incident itself?"

"Uh..." Finn trails off. "I think so, but I don't know where to start, so..."

Ms. Pilsbury nods. "That's perfectly understandable, Finn, take your time."

He sighs. "I think I'm too calm," he says. "I mean, I feel _bad_ about it, but... I feel like I should be crying and going crazy. I was doing that a couple of days ago. I made this total serial killer wall thing – not that I'm actually going to kill anyone, though, it was just this thing I did when remembering how, like, once I wouldn't have been a target for this kind of crap... Um. But now I'm back here, I'm being kinda... _normal_ about the whole thing, well except for when Figgins pissed me off, and I think I shouldn't be. Plus, a whole bunch of people seem to be thinking I was consenting when all this happened – or at least, Rachel said people were – so if I was acting like I should be, it might kind of prove them wrong?"

"Finn," says Ms. P, "there is no way you 'should' be acting. That's not how it works. You can react to this calmly, or with complete panic, and no-one has any right to tell you you should be acting any differently. Okay?"

Finn blinks at her. "Um. Okay."

There's a pause.

"...That was quite awkward, wasn't it?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"Sorry," says Ms. Pilsbury. "I'm trying to help."

"I think you're helping," he says. She smiles at him.

"Thank you," she says. "So, you feel... hurt by people who seem to believe this was a...?"

Finn shrugs uncomfortably. "I guess? I mean, it's not really fair. I haven't really seen the photos, so they could be like, give no evidence of how this whole thing went down... And not everyone knows me, or them, very well, so they wouldn't really have any reason to think... But it feels like they should _know_. Like, I want everyone to be able to see my point of view on all this, and believe me, or whatever. And I'm pretty sure half the people thinking like this actually do kind of know me, and with all evidence they shouldn't think I'd ever go for it, but they do because they all think I'm gay for being in Glee or whatever. Which is bullshit, because even if I did swing that way those guys are assholes and I would find better people hook up with, seriously." He pauses. "Er... sorry about the swearing, Ms. P."

"It's quite alright, Finn," she says. "And your feelings make sense. People believing this attack was anything other than just that... It's going to hurt. A lot. And honestly, I'm not sure how easy it will be to convince people otherwise. It shouldn't be like that, but it's just another way in which the world... isn't always great when it comes to these sorts of situations."

Finn frowns. "I'm pretty sure you're meant to be telling me things will get better, or something like that."

She nods slowly. "Unfortunately, I can't promise you that. Look, many – most – victims of sexual assault or abuse recover, and go on to live full, healthy lives. But I can't guarantee it for you. I can't guarantee people are going to make it easier, either – I'm sure you will have a strong support network, but I can't say that people won't say and do really stupid, offensive things. I can't say the only people who do this will be doing it intentionally, out of malice. I can't say the people caring for you, in that support network, won't sometimes be the ones who do just that. I can't even say, as a counselor, I won't sometimes do that myself." Finn stares at her in confusion, and she sighs. "All I can personally promise? Is that, as faculty member of your school, if you require help with this then I will make every attempt I possible can to provide just that. That's all."

Finn bites his lip. "Okay," he says. "Well, I can't say you're not trying or whatever... thanks, Ms. P."

"You're welcome," she says.

"...So, what do I do?"

She sighs. "I'm not sure," she says, "but I think it has to be your choice."


	11. Take My Hand

**11: Take My Hand**

He actually goes to Glee. He's pretty sure most of everyone is expecting him to skip, but there isn't any real reason to. Still, when he goes there he finds he suddenly has that power people in the movies have to make everyone go silent just by being there.

It's... about as ridiculously awkward as it is the movies.

"Finn," says Quinn, blinking wildly at him. "You're here."

Finn shrugs. "Well... yeah?"

Everyone's starting to share uncomfortable looks – he can't really blame them. Except he can see Santana rolling her eyes, and even if he really didn't expect her to do any of the sentimental shit (dude, it's _Santana_), that kind of scares him.

"Are you okay?" blurts out Artie. Everyone looks at him like they think he's dumb for saying it, but are sort of thankful he did anyway, because they all really wanted to know too. Finn shrugs.

"I guess?" he says. "I mean, as much as possible."

He pretty much watches everyone collectively wince. _Shit. _"Um, it's okay, guys. Don't worry about me. We have like, stuff to do now... right?"

"We're _meant_ to, but then you walked in and everyone decided they wanna be your therapist," Santana says. "So, you wanna sit down? Or is your ass meant to be too sore or something?"

"Santana!" Quinn says, looking horrified/pissed off. Finn flinches a bit, but manages to shake it off. _That's just Santana,_ he tells himself. _She's probably just trying to be normal or whatever._

"Um, okay," he says, slowly making his way across the room to sit. He winds up between Rachel and Sam, and Rachel grasps his hand. Sam gives him a look of sympathy. That's a little comforting.

Mr. Schue walks in. "Okay, guys, I know we're..." He stops short when he sees Finn. "Finn."

There's an awkward pause. "Hey, Mr. Schue," Finn says, because he's not really sure how he's meant to react. Shouldn't they be getting on with practice?"

"You're here." Finn nods, and that seemed kind of obvious, actually. "How are you?"

"Oh god, here we go again," Santana grumbles. Everyone turns to stare at her.

"What?"

"Okay, how can you be _that much_ of a bitch?" Artie asks. "Seriously, how is it physically possible?"

"A guy gets, well, _raped_ and you get pissy because people are asking him if he's okay? That seems, you know, insane and psychopathic," Sam says.

Santana laughs disbelievingly – okay, Finn didn't expect _that_. "You guys are serious? You actually buy all this?"

Finn's stomach churns, because people have been sort of making him feel like they don't believe him since there was anyone knowing what not to believe, but Santana isn't really about to say...

"Okay, let's look at some evidence? I mean, he's hardly bruised or anything, is he? Which seems funny, given if a couple of guys who have always hated him were, you know, forcing him, you'd think they'd wind up being violent enough to leave some marks," she says. "Especially if he was meant to be up and at 'em and fighting back."

"Santana, stop," Mr. Schue says. "This isn't an appropriate discussion to be having here."

"Oh please. If you guys can share your weepy 'oh you poor thing!' statements, then I am making my opinion heard," she says. "And why the hell wouldn't he be able to fight 'em off anyway? He _is_ like crazy tall. I'm seen them all out on the football field, and Finn is the stronger one. And, you know, if it was just blowjobs – why? Why wouldn't they take it all the way if they were completely ignoring what you wanted anyway?"

"I think they ran out of–"

"Oh whatever," Santana cuts him off. "And, with the way they were hovering around you before all this, you'd think if you weren't interested you'd have _done_ something about it. Even now, when you're playing the whole victim card, you still haven't called the cops. So I can't help but think you're just a dumb closet case who messed around and got caught, and I'm _not_ going to feel sorry for you crying–"

"SHUT UP, SANTANA!" Mr. Schue screams, making everyone jump. There's a pause as he collects himself. "I cannot allow you to talk to Finn that way. You either need to stop, or leave."

Santana shrugs. "Fine. If we're going to spend all lesson playing support group anyway," she says before making her way to the door. She turns back to look at Finn. "Just remember, Finnocence – I'm not the only one who's gonna doubt you. Truth prevails and all that shit. So you better get your story real straight."

Finn doesn't even _know_ what to say; he feels like she's pulls his guts out and laid them on the floor (ew). Rachel seems to take over for him, squeezing his hand tighter and he can feel her practically shaking with fury. "You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

And just for a second, Finn can see Santana cringe. He doesn't think anyone else notices, and then she's back to Santana Face and he has no idea how to react. "Think what you will, Berry. But I bet a bit of every one of you is a little relieved I said all that, because I'm enough of a bitch I don't _care_ how it looks, and I'm justifying those sneaking suspicions you've got. There's a reason for that." She pauses. "Well, bye then."

She storms out, and there's an uncomfortable silence. "Well, that was unnecessary and humiliating," Quinn observes. "Are you okay, Finn?"

He nods along, even though he's really kind of _not_ and that's probably pretty obvious. Rachel keeps stroking his hand.

"I think she's broken," Brittany muses. "That was way meaner than normal."

"That sounds debatable," Rachel grumbles, as Finn wonders how that even happens. He's pretty sure Santana's not a robot.

"Ignore her. Please," Tina tells him.

"Bitch is crazy, yo," Artie says, which actually makes Finn smile.

"Everything she said was just old, victim-blaming myths," Rachel says. "It's unfortunate, but... We all do believe in you, Finn."

"Thanks," he says. Mr. Schue meets his eye, looking... pitying. Fuck.

"You sure you're okay, Finn?" he asks. Finn nods again.

"Yeah," he says. "Can we just get on with rehearsal?"

* * *

They do. Not a lot gets done and everyone's distracted, but it's enough that Finn's only half-thinking about, well, everything. So he's putting it the plus column.

Eventually, it comes to an end, though, and everyone starts preparing their stuff and leaving. Rachel gives him a peck and struts out (he thinks she has ballet today). Everyone makes their way, with varying amounts of staring at him, and Finn starts to follow their lead (minus the staring at himself, because he doesn't really know how to do that without gouging out his eyes or something, and that sounds painful).

Mr. Schue stops him, with a hand on his shoulder. "Finn?"

Finn blinks at him. "Mr. Schue," he says. "What is it?"

And Schue sighs. He looks sad. "Look, Finn, I wanted to... apologize."

Finn blinks. "For?"

"I messed up. You told me you were uncomfortable, and I knew I should try to help, but... I told Figgins and he wouldn't act, and I didn't know how to push and... I convinced myself I didn't have to worry. I did. So I'm sorry."

Finn shrugs. It hurts, but he doesn't see what Schue could have done. He tried, right? "It's okay, Mr. Schue. You did your best or... whatever."

Schue sighs again. "I guess," he says, but he doesn't really sound like he means it. Finn doesn't know how to make him feel better. Schue squeezes him by the shoulder. "Well. Take care Finn."

There's a pause, before Finn finds himself falling into Mr. Schue's arms for a hug. Well, that's got to be kind of awkward. But he finds Mr. Schue is wrapping his arms around him, and really it's not that surprising – Schue hugged him after Quinn said she was pregnant. He guesses he can get hugs from his Spanish teacher whenever anything really bad happens. And for a while, it makes him feel better. He feels protected; like the big, powerful people really can keep him safe and make sure no-one hurts him again.

He knows that's not true – sometimes the can't or, well, won't – but it's comforting anyway. But he has to pull back eventually. "Well. Bye, Mr. Schue."

Schue nods and draws his arms away. "Bye."

* * *

Kurt is waiting in the parking lot.

Finn blinks at him. "Hi?"

"Hello," Kurt says, shifting uncomfortably. "Just so you know, I'm not stalking you again. Well, I am, but I'm doing it for altruistic reasons so my karma is on the plus side."

"...I don't know what that word means, but since you're giving it as an excuse I'm going to say it's a good thing." Kurt laughs a little, and Finn manages to smile. "So, what's up?"

Kurt sighs. "I'm just... worried about you. Of course, everyone is, but since I am more or less your stepbrother by now I have something of a vested interest." He pauses. "How are you holding up, Finn?"

Finn also sighs, and makes his way over to Kurt's car, leaning against it. "I don't know. Better than I could be, I guess. Better than I should be, maybe." Kurt looks confused. "I mean, I've been sane all day, even with Santana telling me I'm some kind of..."

"...And that's a bad thing? The staying sane part, not Santana's awfulness. That's _definitely_ a bad thing, ergo my choice of the word 'awful'."

"You're babbling, dude."

"Sorry."

Finn shrugs. "I was pretty fucking messed up, awhile back. I mean, I went all crazy and stuck myself in my room and trashed it and made a whole psycho montage on the wall. So wouldn't have been out of place in a horror movie. Just feels like I should be more consistent about it all."

"Oh," Kurt says. Then, hesitantly, he pushes his hand down and wraps it around Finn's.

Finn pauses. A year ago, he would have freaked if Kurt tried that. Now, of course, it's nice. Comforting. And he really fucking needs some comfort right now.

"I still don't feel safe when I'm home alone," he admits. "It's stupid, and I can hardly force Mom not to work – I mean, we need to eat – but... I get these nightmares. They're freaky. That's actually what made me go all crazy when I wrecked my room anyway."

Finn stares down at the concrete, and Kurt squeezes his hand harder. There's a pause. "Look, Finn," Kurt says, drawing his attention. "I'm... trying to be good about all this. And I rather foresaw the fact you might be rather struggling, especially when you have to be home alone. I talked to my dad about it last night, and..." he bites his lip, "Do you think you and your mother would like to stay with us for awhile? So you _don't_ have to spend a lot of time alone? We are meant to be a family now, after all." Finn can only stare at him, and suddenly Kurt looks really awkward. "Oh, um, if you would be... comfortable with that, of course."

"Wha? Oh, yeah," Finn says. "I mean, I'd have to ask my mom first, because I think she'd be pissed if I tried to make her move without asking – even though she did it first – but yeah, I'd like that. I mean, your dad has a gun."

Kurt smiles at him. "Very well, then. Come on. I'll drive you home, and you can ask Carole. That way, if she agrees, I can just drive you both there."

"What about my car?"

"We'll pick it up later; why do I have to think of everything?" Kurt bitches, and smiles as he slides inside. Finn goes to the other side and climb in too. Kurt has a really nice car. Then Finn starts thinking, and frowns.

"Thanks for being so awesome about this, Kurt," he says. "I mean, not everyone's being all... uh..."

Kurt winces. "I'm sorry about Santana," he says. "I really have no idea what her problem is."

Finn shrugs. "I'm pretty sure she was saying what a lot of people've been thinking," he says. Kurt looks shocked. "I mean, Principal Figgins seems to really not want to believe me. And the school nurse seemed kind of bad with her questions when I was with her, like, _right_ after it happened."

"What?" Kurt asks. "Why didn't you say something about this, Finn? Report them? You can't just let people act like–"

"Who do I report it to?" Finn asks. "I'm not sure anything would happen anyway. Do you think all this... badness is normal when it comes to things like this?"

Kurt sighs. "I do not know," he says. "I've never been through that situation."

Finn nods. "Anyway," he says. "Let's go home."


	12. Be Prepared

**12: Be Prepared**

It doesn't take long to get Mom to agree. She wants him to feel safe, and she really does like Burt. Really, the only reason they didn't _stay_ moved in together last year was, well, because Finn fucked it up. Oops.

He has to stay in Kurt's room for now, but he doesn't mind this time. He and Kurt are over all that drama; they're friends again. Finn's glad he doesn't have to stress more, really.

Kurt makes him a lot of tea. "For warming, soothing properties," he says.

Finn doesn't really like tea, but Kurt's trying to be nice so he accepts it anyway. When he dumps a lot of sugar in it, it's okay.

He wanders into the bathroom this one time, and watches Kurt putting up a new shower curtain. It has some kind of latch thing.

"Um, dude? What are you doing?"

"Finn!" Kurt looks shocked. "I thought you were out!"

"...Why would you think that?" He's not gone out much; he keeps worrying people will sneak up from behind him and... But he doesn't want to mention all that.

Kurt frowns. "Actually, I'm not really sure."

"Oh." There's an awkward pause. "So, uh, you didn't answer my first question – what are you doing?"

"Huh?" Kurt looks a little weird. "Oh, I, er – I bought a new shower curtain. The old one was throwing the color scheme all off."

"The whole bathroom's white, Kurt; including _both_ shower curtains, so how can that..." Finn realizes halfway through his sentence that Kurt is probably bullshitting him, at least about _why_ he's doing this. He doesn't quite get his thought straight, but whatever it is, it makes him ask "And why does it have, like, a lock?"

"It's not a _lock,_ Finn; it's a latch at most."

"I said like."

Kurt rolls his eyes. But he still doesn't answer.

Finn's thought starts making it's way into the part of his brain that figures out words for things.

"Wait... you think I'm gonna... not trust you and feel like I have to...?"

Kurt cringes a little. "Maybe."

"Dude, I said–"

"I know, but... I _know_ I made you feel uncomfortable last year. Parts of that were my fault and parts of it were yours, but the point is – it happened. And, well, given... what you're going through... I just thought it would be good to, er, minimize potential discomfort. Because, well... I just expected you to be cautious about..."

Finn nods along with this. "Okay," he says. "But... no. Man, I – I need to trust you, okay? I can't go around being all paranoid and shit."

"I don't think you should call yourself paranoid," he says. "I mean – from what I gathered, you rather underestimated the threat of Karofsky and Azimio before... what happened happened. And, well, I just thought you'd be – scared of making the same mistake twice. Not that I'd ever do that, but... you have only my word as evidence, and I wouldn't blame you too much for considering that, well, not much proof. I just... took precautions to make you feel safer. I didn't think you'd do it on your own."

Finn shakes his head. This is hard to understand, but... "Kurt... I _can't_ be scared of you. I _can't_." Kurt looks confused, and Finn tries to explain. "It's just... I'm want to be, er, about as okay as I can with everything. Even though screaming and crying and hating everyone might make people believe me more, it just doesn't sound fun."

"I understand," Kurt says. "But I was trying to make sure you'd stay calm – not go all screaming and crying and... well, you know."

"Yeah, but..." Finn bites his lip. "I can't get paranoid about this, okay? I can't be like, those guys... _raped_ me and so everyone else ever is going to too... I trusted you before all this, okay? I trusted you _now_, in any case. So I'm not changing that; it'd just... whatever."

Kurt nods. "Okay. I'm sorry, then."

Finn shakes his head. "It's cool. You were just trying to help. Which you didn't even really have to do, given how easy it is to fight about whether or not you even did anything wrong..."

There's an awkward pause, and Finn cocks his head to the side.

"Never liked that shower curtain anyway," he says. "It had this whole... texture thing. It made me think of mold."

Kurt laughs at the face he pulls.

* * *

So, life goes on. They exist. Finn manages not to have any real psychological breakdowns, so everything's cool, he guesses.

Kurt's in the kitchen, frowning. "Hey man," Finn asks. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering..." Kurt looks at him, biting his lip. "You don't have any medications or such that I should be aware of, right? I mean, after..."

It takes a second for Finn to understand. _Oh_. "...Er, they haven't actually called us with the test results yet. For like, infections and stuff, after what they... Maybe the doctors should have by now, but whatever. They said it wasn't high risk 'cause of, um... being a blowjob and lactation or something, but..."

"I'm fairly sure lactation is not the word you mean, but oh well," Kurt says. "I just thought... Well, if they performed a rape kit I always expected they'd be, er, fast and dedicated or... something."

Finn frowns in confusion. "Rape kit?" he asks. "Okay, now I'm kind of imagining suitcases full of rape and that doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Not really," Kurt says. "A rape kit is meant to be something they do... when a person has been, well, sexually assaulted. I don't really know what it involves, but..."

"Oh. Well, uh, they tested me for STDs and cleaned up that thing from where Karofsky stabbed me with a key, but apart from that... That doesn't count, does it?"

"I don't think so," says Kurt. "I'm fairly sure a rape kit is meant to collect evidence for prosecution. Which, given how many days it's been since the, um, assault, wouldn't do a lot of good anymore."

Finn cringes a little at the idea of collecting _anything_ for prosecution – he's starting to realize he's shit scared of going to the cops about this, and every time someone makes him think of the idea he gets a little bit more shit scared.

He also cringes a little at – he thinks he remembers people at the hospital asking him what he wanted them to do, apart from those tests or whatever. He just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, so he brushed most of everything off – did he do something wrong?

"Oh," he says. "Well... shit."

Kurt sighs, and makes his way over to a kitchen chair. "Well, I guess we just have to hope police and jurors and such will believe your testimony. But I don't really see a reason for them not to."

Finn cringes more. He doesn't know if actually talking about all this is a good idea, but–

"Kurt, uh..."

"...What?"

Finn takes a breath. Okay. "Look, you keep – actually, everyone keeps going on about, like, stuff that would happen if I go to the cops... and I'm not really sure I'm going to. And, uh, everyone seems to take it as... something I'm just _going_ to do, and it's making me kind of uncomfortable."

Kurt frowns at him. "Why not?"

"Huh?"

"Why won't you report it to the authorities?"

"I – I don't know; because I think it'll be hard and stressful and–"

"Don't you want them to be punished for what they did to you?"

"Of – of course, but it's not that simp–"

"What could possibly be so important it overrides a need for justice?"

"Kurt, could you let me finish a sentence?" Finn snaps. Kurt goes quiet, and Finn sighs. "I don't – I don't really know what it is, okay? It's just... the whole idea of going to complete strangers and telling them to fix it for me, with absolutely no control over it, and _then_ having to tell a complete room full of more strangers and try to tell them what happened, and then people specifically trying to convince everyone I'm _lying_, and then a whole bunch of people with nothing to do with anything get to fucking _vote_ on whether or not it's true... That whole idea freaks me out, okay? So can I just... not deal with it? At least for now?"

"No," Kurt says. Finn recoils – _wait, what?_ "Finn – look, the legal system works the way it does for a reason. And, well, I can understand you having emotional problems with everything, but – you need to be strong, Finn.

"I'm try–"

"I was trying to be respectful, but you really do need to _get a move on_ – the longer you wait, the less likely you'll get a conviction. And then they'll get away with it, and – who knows, maybe this'll happen to someone else! Do you really want that on your conscience?"

"Kurt, I'm _trying_ to be strong," Finn says. Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Really. I am. I really want to be able to cope with this and like, deal. But... I can't _do_ that while putting myself through _even more_ pain and stress or whatever."

"Maybe it won't be that bad?" Kurt suggests. Finn flinches.

"I don't know, but – look, I... I just don't think I can do all that. I'm sorry."

"Well, again, what about everyone else?" Kurt asks. "I mean, Karofsky and Azimio are horrible people. Why would they stop with one victim? If you _can_ put them away, you _have_ to, otherwise – you're just letting it happen! Why would you want someone to go through what you are right now? It's just selfish, Finn."

"Kurt," Finn chokes out, and suddenly he feels exactly like he did four days ago when Santana stood up and called him a lying liar who lies in front of everyone who cared about him – Kurt was as mad as anyone about what she pulled; how can he make Finn feel the same way? "I _can't_. Not now. Yeah, it's selfish, but... it's taking a lot of fucking work to keep me together right now. I can't protect everyone else too, Kurt. And – and why is it my responsibility, huh? It wasn't my fault when they did this to me, right? It was theirs! What changes that?"

"Don't you _get it,_ Finn?" Kurt shrieks, and he sounds fucking crazy now – he looks hurt and upset, like he's going to cry. Okay, Finn really, really doesn't get it. "I'm not scared of Karofsky and Azimio going after some hypothetical person you'll probably never know at all and probably won't know they've done anything to 'em even if you _do_ know the person themselves. Finn, I'm worried about them coming after _me_."

"...Huh?"

"Finn, think about it," Kurt says. "Why did they always hate you? Deep-seated homophobia and their misinterpretation of your sexuality. And it led to them doing _that_ to you. And I can't help but think... well, given I'm actually gay and everything, they have more motive to do this to me than you if anything. And I'm _scared_, Finn. Look, what happened to you was horrible and I'd give anything to go back and stop it happening, but – it's something we can lock them up for and stop it ever happening again. And isn't that better? I'm sorry, but I just can't understand why you refuse to protect anyone – why you're refusing to protect me."

Finn stares at him blankly. He hadn't even managed to think of Karofsky and Azimio hurting people he knows – he vaguely thought of them hurting someone, but...

"Kurt," he says. "...I don't actually know where they are anymore, right? They kind of disappeared off the face of the Earth."

"They can be subpoenaed; that's not the point."

"...I don't know," Finn says. Kurt cringes at him. "Maybe, later I could like, steel myself up or something, but – I... maybe I am just weak, and selfish, but I kind of _need_ to be. It happened to me. Why can't it still be about me?"

"Because the world doesn't work that way!" Kurt snaps, angry look on his face. He stands up, and Finn recoils as he remembers tall, angry figures looming over him – _don't be ridiculous, Kurt wouldn't._ "Look, I know I should be sensitive to what you're going through, and I can't understand, but... You are leaving people in danger without even trying for no real reason other than 'but I don't _feel_ like it!'. And I cannot have sympathy for that."

Kurt turns on his heel and struts down to the basement, slamming the door behind him. Finn cringes at the sound, and stays at the table, frozen. He's gonna cry.

Does Kurt have a point? Is he being selfish by refusing to do anything about this? Should it _not_ all be about him?

But two guys pinned him down and forced their dicks down his throat. Completely ignoring what he wanted. Is it so bad he doesn't want people ignoring what he wants again?

Finn doesn't know what to think. So he sits there and cries.

A lot.


End file.
